


Take me to Church

by Smooty



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Everything Hurts, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Suicide, bottom!Murdoc, drugs/alcohol, top!2D
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2019-07-18 18:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 90,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16124447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smooty/pseuds/Smooty
Summary: The band is back together, but things are... weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?





	1. Rocky Road

**Author's Note:**

> New story! Updates every other Friday until I decide this wild ride is finished. Follow me on Tumblr at our-smooty for early sneak peeks and general screaming about Gorillaz!

The rule was that whoever was up first woke up everyone else. Usually that was Noodle or Russel, but since coming back from her trip to Hell Noodle had given up policing the boys, and Russel was still huge after eating all that toxic waste, so that left 2D or Murdoc. And since nobody told Murdoc Niccals what to do—his words—the job fell to 2D. Even though he slept through his alarm half the time that meant that at people got woken up on time occasionally so it was better than nothing. 

Today, despite his best efforts to snooze the alarm, 2D was up on time. Mostly. He'd pulled himself out of bed and into the bathroom, got a shirt and trousers on, and only fallen on his face twice before getting out the door. All in all, not the worst morning that week.

Noodle’s room was first. The halls outside were filled with trash and miscellaneous band gear, but her doorway was at least mostly clear. Quiet as possible, he cracked the door open and peered in, spotting her amongst the pile of blankets and stuffed animals.

“Oi, Noods,” he whispered. Noodle shifted in her bed, dragging a pillow over her head.

“Noodle-girl, you said not to let you sleep in again.”

“2D….” she groaned, “5-Bu ijō…”

“S’up to ya but it's not my fault if ya sleep all day.” He chuckled. Knowing better than to needle her when she was waking up he closed the door again.

The next part was his absolute least favourite part of the day. Worse than when it was his turn to do dishes, worse than when Murdoc made him clean toilets. He had to wake up their bassist.

Holding his breath he gave his band mate’s door a timid knock. On good days Murdoc might shout at him to fuck off through the door. On bad days Stu got in some early morning cardio dodging projectiles down the stairs. This morning it was silent.

“Oi, Muds. You up?” he called against the damaged wood. Still nothing. Gulping audibly he leaned against the door.

“Hey Murdoc, you in here?” Sometimes he wasn't even home and 2D got off easy. He had half a mind to walk away and get started on wading through the trash in kitchen for breakfast. But then he remembered the last time he'd failed to wake Murdoc up on time, and decided against it with a shudder. There’d been punching, yelling, and strangely, a lot of sandwich making. Never again.

“Ah come on Muds, at least give me a shout or somethin’ so I know you're in there…” he sighed. Again there was silence beyond the door. He had no choice, and, after allowing himself a few seconds of nervous wavering, he opened the door a crack.

As usual, it was pitch black inside. 2D shuddered in the darkness, the only light coming from the hall behind him.

“A-anybody home?” he warbled into the blackness. The door behind him swung open a little wider, revealing more of the room. It was dirty inside, bottles and papers littering the floor, miscellaneous pills and baggies of powder scattered in between. 2D didn't judge though, his room looked the same. Squinting into the darkness where he figured Murdoc’s bed was he called out again.

“For fuck's sake, Muds, y’in here or what?” A quick glance around told him the other wasn’t in the room. The bed was empty and frankly, nasty. Beer cans, papers, and cigarette butts were folded in between unwashed sheets. Taking a cautious step forward, dodging a particularly terrifying pair of underwear, 2D looked over Murdoc’s things on the nightstand. Condoms, more pills and booze, mail, a worn picture of the band back in Phase One. And Murdoc’s phone, which was weird. Ever since Plastic Beach Murdoc had been nigh inseparable for his cellphone.

Figuring Muds was somewhere else in the house, 2D picked his way back through the mess and out into the hall.  Noodle still wasn’t up and the house was silent. 2D ambled down the stairs two at a time, happy for once to have a morning to himself. He made it all the way to the last four before tripping up and landing on his face.

“What the—!” Murdoc’s shouted hoarsely from the sofa. “Can’t a man get five minutes rest in his own home—ahh!” he screamed as 2D popped up suddenly from the floor.

“Oh, there you are Muds! I was lookin’ for you!” 2D said, a little bit garbled due to the bloody nose. “What’re you doin’ on the sofa when you got a perfectly good bed— oh nevermind.”

Murdoc didn’t answer and 2D continued his shambling way into the kitchen. It was only a little better than Mud’s room in here but it smells awful. Like—

“Gas? Why’s it smell like gas?” He stuck his tongue out between his missing teeth in concentration.

“What’re you on about in there, Faceache?” Murdoc sneered from the living room.

“It smells like gas in here, like for the cooker. But nobody’s cookin’— oh fuck!” 2D’s eyes landed on the cooker, which was wide open, with the pilot light out. Thinking quickly for once he flung open all the doors and windows in the kitchen to air the place out.

“Whatever you do don't light a fag yet Muds!” He shouted, aimlessly wringing his hands as fresh air wafted in.

Though he hadn't intended too light one, Murdoc bristled. “You ain't the boss of me dullard” he growled. Just to spite the younger, he pulled out his pack of Lucky Lungs and Zippo.

“No!” 2D shouted shrilly, diving onto the sofa and into Murdoc’s space.

“Dammit 2D, what the hell are you— ow! Did you just  _ bite  _ me?” 2D continued to struggle against the older man, successfully snagging the Zippo with a triumphant, but muffled shout.

Unknown to the two brawling men, Noodle had followed 2D down the stairs and was watching the show. Sighing at the dramatics of her family she continued into the kitchen to get a start on breakfast.

“Noodle! Noodle luv, is that you? Get this soddin’ idiot off me!” Murdoc called, still trying to release his arm from the mouth of his singer.

She ignored Murdoc and kept searching for adequate breakfast food. “Did I hear something about the gas being on?”

2D perked up. “ I fank sum-un left tha gash on an’ tha door opn’,” he answered, Murdoc's arm still firmly grasped in his teeth.

Unphased, Noodle shook her head. “Let him go 2D, the room’s aired out enough for a cig.” 2D finally released Murdoc, who snatched his arm and cradled it.

“Sweet Satan finally! You nearly tore it off!” he whined. 2D scrambled up and out of reach into the kitchen in case Murdoc wanted revenge.

“Well you deserve it for leaving the gas on and the oven open!” Noodle called back.. Murdoc scowled and stomped into the kitchen.

“How’d you know it was me then? Could just as well have been you or 2Dents,” he snapped.

Still choosing to mostly ignore the older man Noodle pulled out a beat up box of cereal. “Because, 2D isn't allowed to use the stove unsupervised, and he listens. And we all know you do stupid shit like this all the time.”

“She's right Muds, and ya were pretty drunk last night.”

“Was not!” Murdoc protested. Both 2D and Noodle raised an eyebrow at him, taking in his bloodshot eyes, pallid complexion, and general lack of appropriate clothing. “Ok I was plastered, but I didn't touch the fucking oven!”

“Whatever, it doesn't matter just don't let it happen again. You want cereal, 2D?” Noodle asked.

“Yes please!”

“Oh fuck this,” Murdoc growled, stomping out of the room and slamming up the stairs.

2D and Noodle watched him go. “Well he's hungover as fuck, he didn't even make that much of a stink over that bite you gave him.”

“You're right Noods. Musta been a right bender. Funny we didn't hear him down here,” 2D answered, pouring milk into his cereal. “And he didn't even really hit me!” The milk started to overflow onto the table and Noodle grabbed the jug.

“He's been acting weird since we all got back together again, was he like this on Plastic Beach too?” she asked.

“Uh, no he was, ah, different.” 2D hadn't told the others a lot about what happened on Plastic Beach other than Murdoc kept him there and was drunk all the time.

“Good different?” Noodle pressed. 2D knew she wanted to know more about what happened between them.

“Nah, just different. Less angry and more… sketchy?” he answered. “I think that was the first time I've seen him out of his room all week.”

Noodle, thankfully, nodded and let it go. 2D was glad she had inherited Russel's social graces and not his or Murdoc's.

Things had been weird between the band since they got back together. Russel was so giant he had to live on top of the house, but he also didn't talk as much as he used to. Sometimes 2D caught him looking like he wanted to say something, but then he didn’t. Noodle had been a teen last time they were all together and now she was a grown woman who had traversed hell and killed demons. Murdoc locked himself away and was downright hostel to his bandmates when he did leave his room. And 2D was skittish, damaged in a way that showed in ragged bitten nails and dark under-eye bags.

But they still worked together. Russel was too big to play the drums but he still leaned down to the window during band practise to give his two cents. Noodles guitar and wild sense of style matched up perfectly with Murdoc's weird genre bending lyrics. And 2D’s vocals we're just as fantastic as always. Musically they were in a good place. Emotionally, they were struggling. There was s distance between them that hadn’t been there before, and 2D didn’t have the first clue how to fix it.

2D stared down into his soggy Captain Crunch. “Do you wanna go to the mall with me today Noods? We could get ice cream at that place you like.” Anything to feel normal for a little while.

“Sure D, maybe we can pick up some more toys for Katsu,” she replied, slamming back her coffee. “Just give me a few to get ready and we can go. Should we even invite Murdoc?”

“Uh, I dunno. I guess it'd be rude not to?” he replied. “I'll go ask him, but I doubt he's even still awake.” Noodle shrugged and walked off towards her room.

Dumping the now gross cereal in the sink, 2D prepared himself to knock on Murdoc's door for the second time that day. Finding himself standing outside the bassist’s door he steeled himself to once again risk waking his beast of a best mate.

“Oi Muds, you still up?” he called. Unlike before he could hear shuffling and grumbling beyond the door. It only took a few seconds before the hungover man pulled the door open, leaning heavily on the doorframe. Clad in the same thing he’d been wearing when 2D’s bitten him, a raggedy grey long sleeve and dirty jeans, he looked just as grumpy as he had when he left the kitchen.

“Come to say sorry for nearly gnawing my arm off then?” he sneered. “Or maybe you liked the taste of me so much you’ve come back for more?”

Used to Murdoc’s behaviours, 2D only blushed a little. Murdoc would firlt with anything with a pulse, and even then that wasn’t a strict rule. “I-I am oftly sorry for biting you Muds, but you were gonna—”

“Yeah,yeah, whatever. What do you want?” Murdoc scowled and picked his teeth with one long nail. 2D gulped.

“W-well me and Noodle are going to the mall and I wanted to know if you want to come with?” the other squeaked, angling his body as far away from Murdoc as he could without moving his feet. 2D was ready to bolt at the first sign of movement. Instead, Murdoc continued to pick his teeth, eyeing him.

“The mall with that ice cream place? The one that can  _ actually  _ make a decent cone of Rocky Road?” 2D nodded enthusiastically. “Fine, give me 15.” He slammed the door in 2D’s face, nearly taking off his toes.

Stu, a little gobsmacked, jerked back from the door and landed on his ass. Scrambling to get up, long limbs getting in each other’s way, he cursed, realising that he only had 15 minutes to shower, get dressed, and get all his stuff together.

What the  _ fuck _ was he doing. Going out with Noodle and 2D was the last thing he wanted to be doing after last night. He was too hungover this, hell he wasn’t drunk enough for this, he thought, taking a swig from the bottle by the doorframe. 15 minutes was enough time to down the bottle and get a good start on another if he was industrious about it. Maybe then he’d be drunk enough to enjoy his ice cream instead of thinking about how he’d fucked up last night. 

“Cheers,” he said as he toasted the medical skeleton in the corner of his room. By the time 2D was knocking on his door again he’d managed to make quite the dent in a second bottle and the world was beginning to look fuzzy. He capped the bottle and tossed it behind him in the direction of the bed. Judging by the shattering sound, he’s missed.”

Murdoc yanked the door open startling 2D into fall over backwards. 2D yelped and scrambled out of the way best he could, but still ended up on his ass. Murdoc glared down and growled.

“Watch where you’re goin’ faceache.” He continued on down the stairs, gripping the railing tight and wavering side to side.

“S-s-sorry Muds,” 2D mumbled, but Murdoc was already halfway down the stairs. Noodle was waiting at the bottom in to foyer, tapping away on her phone. He looked up briefly as Murdoc ambled down the final few steps and began fighting with the shoe rack.

“You alright there, Muds? Lost your heels?” she asked. “Or maybe you’re trying to steal mine again?”

With a grunt, he ignored her and pulled out his Cuban heels. Trying to put them on as normal, was useless so instead he sat at the bottom of the staircase like a child to wiggle them on one at a time. Noodle giggled a little and Murdoc sent her a murderous glare. It didn’t faze her. He took to staring at his shoes with vitriol.

“You ready to go then, D?” Noodle asked. Murdoc could hear 2D traipsing down the stairs behind him and moved just in time for the singer to barrel through.

“Yeah I think so! You ready Muds?”

Murdoc grunted again and grabbed the keys off the hook above the shoe rack. 2D briefly looked worried before Murdoc tossed the keys to Noodle. “You drive Sprog; can’t have ol’ no-eyes drivin’ us off the road, can we?”

“Whatever you say Muds, let's just go.” They filed out the front door and down to the car. 2D stopped to wave up at Russ, who was looking much smaller, Murdoc noted. He was almost looking forward to when Russel could fit through the front door. The drummer was really the only one who could cook worth a damn and he was getting tired of boxed meals and being hungry. Russel waved back and continued with the book he had been reading.

Getting into the front seat Murdoc hunkered down. He could hear 2D complaining in the back seat that there was no legroom, but didn't say anything. Noodle got in last and started up the car, flicking to a preferred radio station.

The mall was at least half an hour away so that left Murdoc a lot of time to think. And to sip from the flask in his jacket pocket.

Murdoc was no stranger to bad nights and even worse hangovers. Last night probably hadn’t even been the worst he’d ever had, but then there’d been the oven. The details were sketchy to him, but he could piece together what he’d probably been doing. He took another, larger pull from the flask, stared out the window, and lit another cigarette.

2D and Noodle were chattering in the background but Murdoc didn’t join in. There was a pinching anxiety in his gut, crawling up into his chest and settling in his throat. His fingers itched to hold his bass. Why the fuck had he agreed to come out today?

“Oi Muds, gimmie a ciggie?” 2D all but shouted right in his ear. Murdoc jumped out of his skin, cigarette falling into his lap and burning a hole in his already tattered jeans.

“Fuckin’ Hell” he gasped, brushing the hot ash off his pants before it burned him for real. “Here, take it and fuck off.” Noodle gave him a weird look, probably surprised he hadn’t lashed out at the younger, but he was just too tired.

“Well we're here, everybody out!” Noodle called, cranking the parking brake and unlocking the doors. 2D cheered and leapt out, or he tried to, but he forgot to undo his seatbelt and had to fight with the thing. Murdoc rolled his eyes and exited slowly.

They wandered around the mall for a few hours. Noodle and 2D picked out some cute new toys for Katsu, and Murdoc almost got arrested for shoplifting a whole tank of turtles. He got out of it with a few autographed guard badges. 2D insisted they stop at a menswear shop so he could pick out a tie for his dad, which took 45 minutes too long and involved at least one near-strangulation event. It was mid-afternoon by the time they made their way to the food court.

“Finally, we reach the point of this entire misadventure,” Murdoc groused as they waited in line. 2D bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly wringing his hands.

“What are you gonna get Muds? I don’t know if I should get strawberry or maybe chocolate  _ and _ strawberry or what about—” Murdoc punched him in the arm, shutting him up. Stu glared but didn't’ say anything.

“Well I want pistachio,” Noodle said. They were at the front of the line and Murdoc stepped forward.

“Pistachio for the girl, vanilla for the idiot, and rrrrrocky road for me,” he orders. 2D made a fuss behind him.

“Murdoc I didn’t want vanilla I wanted— ouch!”

“Murdoc behave. I’ll share some of mine with you D.” Noodle offered. Murdoc could hear 2D whining about not liking pistachio flavouring but tuned him out. He was too sober for this. So he took out his flask and took all but the last sip.

Ice cream in hand the three band members walked back to the car. Noodle and 2D were gabbing again and Murdoc was lagging behind. Ice cream gone, there wasn’t much reason for him to be hanging around, other than to get a ride home. His bad mood from earlier was coming back with vengeance, and even the fading sweetness of, admittedly good, ice cream couldn’t sooth it. Noodles high-pitched giggles and 2D’s grating, muddled speech dug into his brain like a kid in the candy bowl at Halloween. The turtle debacle had been a good time, but it wasn’t enough to distract from the clawing, crawling feeling under his skin. It was probably time to finish off that last sip of whatever he had in his flask.

“What do you think Murdoc? Noodle says my dad doesn’t wear ties but I think maybe if he had one he might wear it, so I got this one but then it’s kinda ugly and—” Did he ever shut  _ up _ ?

“Do you remember where we parked Murdoc? I can’t see the jeep over all these other cars,” Noodle asked jumping up and down on her tippie toes. Her purse and jewellery jingled with each jump and made Murdoc’s ears twitch.

“—but my mom said she’d like him to dress a little smarter and I dunno if she means, like, more  _ practical _ or neater so I thought maybe a tie would be good, but I don’t—” He was  _ still  _ going for the love of Satan! A car honked in the distance.

“Murdoc? Did you hear me? Muds?”

“For the love of—SHUT UP 2D!” Murdoc shouted, giving the singer a harsh kick to the leg. 2D shouted and toppled over, straight into Noodle.

Later Murdoc would realise it was like looking at the storyboards for one of their music videos. A still shot of 2D bumping into Noodle, another of Noodle stumbling backwards from the impact. Then another, of that damn minivan coming down the aisle, looking for a parking space and not looking for people falling into the laneway. The penultimate shot of the impact, and the surprised look on Noodle’s face. And finally, the image that would haunt him for years, Noodle, his guitarist, his  _ daughter,  _ on the ground, still and a little bloody. There was no sound, not 2D’s screaming, or the driver's frantic pleas. There was just silence and a sort of ringing, and the single thought running through his head over and over again.

_ I killed my daughter, I killed Noodle. I killed my daughter, I killed… _


	2. Coma

He wasn’t too sure how he got home. He remembers that the driver, a middle-aged mom, called 999, and that 2D had gone in the ambulance. Murdoc knows, logically, that he drove home, but has zero recollection of how he did that. Russel had already been gone when he got there; 2D must have called him from the hospital. It was all hazy, kind of like being drunk only he was used to being drunk and this was… different. 

He was sitting in the living room at Wobble Street, in the exact same place he’d woken up a few hours ago. A few hours ago when Noodle had been eating cereal with 2D in the kitchen, instead of being dead. A few hours ago before he murdered maybe the only good thing he had ever really created (aside from Gorillaz).

Fuck this. He didn’t deserve to be alive while Noodle wasn't. It should have been him in front of that car. He should have been watching out, should have kept a lid on his temper, should have—

“Ahg!” Murdoc moaned, jumping to his feet. He needed a drink and something to make him stop thinking. With heavy steps he stomped up to his room and broke into his stash, making quick work of some gin and a couple of pills he’d left on the bedside table and shoving a few more in his pockets.

More alcohol—rum maybe—in hand he stumbled out of his room and into the hall, towards Noodle’s room. The door was still open, a soft, girly perfume wafting out. Murdoc idled in front of the open door for a while, his mind spinning. What right did he have to be in Noodles space after he was the one who killed her? It should have been him, it should have been him, it should have been him—

Whatever. He stepped into the room, into Noodle’s curated space and just stood for a minute. He still hadn’t cried. He never cried, not for real anyway, not since he was a kid. No, that was a lie. He’d cried a lot on Plastic Beach, after he’d killed her the first time. Only this time it wasn’t a planned stunt. This time he didn’t have the hope that she was just in hiding to hold onto. He still hadn’t cried.

Noodle’s bed wasn’t made and there were clothes everywhere. The last time he’d been in here he’d been knicking clothes from her closet. Those clothes were still on the floor in his bedroom. Acid burned up from his stomach like fire and he ran out of the room into the bathroom where he threw up into the sink.

With a gurgling moan, Murdoc sank to the bathroom floor. The pills in his pocket made their way into his mouth, followed by more rum. His cell phone was buzzing in his pocket but his hands were too numb to unlock the screen. This was a familiar feeling. He was having a panic attack. He deserved it.

An unclear amount of time passed before the managed to unlock his phone and get into his voicemail. He had 20 missed calls and 3 messages. Hitting the speaker option he let the phone drop to the floor and buried his head in his knees.

“M-Murdoc w-w-where  _ are _ you? T-t-they took N-Noodle to the ICE or ICU or somethin’, I dunno. Call m-m-me back.” The message was broken up by 2D’s sobbing and sniffling. The next message played.

“Yo Muds. 2D called and told me what happened. I’m on my way to the hospital now.” That was Russel, Satan knows how he still uses his phone at his size. The final message started right after. At first it was just a few seconds of hushed voices and sobbing.

“M-M-M-, oh God, M-Murdoc? They’re takin’ her i-into surgery r-right now. R-Russ said he d-d-d-didn’t see you at home. P-please come here, pl-please…” 2D’s quiet crying went on for a few seconds before the message cut out.

ICU, surgery? Then… he hadn’t killed her? Not yet, at least.

Noodle was alive, Noodle was alive, Noodle was alive, Noodle was alive—

“Right! To th’ ‘ospital,” Murdoc slurred. He set up an Uber and stumbled down to the front porch, knowing that even for him driving right now would be too much. Not that he hasn’t done worse in the past, but still, one car accident was enough for one day.

He gives the directions to the Uber Driver and nearly passed out in the back seat. It isn’t until they’re pulling up to the Emergency Department that he realises he’s carrying a bottle of gin and not wearing any shoes. Oh well, small things.

Marching up to the reception desk and he plunked his bottle down and turned his patented charming smile on the receptionist.

“ ‘M lookin’ for Noodle of Gorillaz, ‘m ‘er dad,” he says using at least half of his current brainpower to stay standing. What were those pills he took anyway? He can’t quite remember.

The receptionist looked suspicious, to say the least. “Do you have any identification Sir?”

Huffing he reached into his back pocket and realised he didn’t have his wallet or any of his affects on him. “ ‘m a famous rock star! Don’ ya recoc-regog-recognize me?”

“Sir I’m afraid I can’t—” she was cut off by Russel,  _ significantly _ smaller than he was this morning, coming through the door to the waiting area.

“Muds! Holy shit man we’ve been calling you! Come on.” Russel placed a hand on his shoulder and steered him back into the main hospital. Murdoc flinched violently and nearly left his bottle on the desk.

“Sorry man, sorry. Just follow me,” Russel apologised. Murdoc grunted and trailed behind, feeling like he might just vomit at any moment. On the way over there hadn’t really been time to think about it but  _ Noodle was alive.  _ Holy Shit.

“Slo’ down mate, gimmie a chance t’ catch my breath,” he gasped, but Russel didn’t slow down. Luckily for Murdoc, the ICU waiting room was just around the corner. 2D, easily spotted by his bright blue hair, was slumped in a corner chair, posture defensive as if by wrapping his arms around his knees he might deflect any bad news.

Russel ushered him over and pulled a third chair so they had their own little circle. 2D jolted as Murdoc flung himself into the chair beside him before grabbing his arm tightly.

“Murdoc! You came!” Murdoc offered him the bottle with a nod. 2D took it gladly and tossed back a couple shots’ worth of rum. “Where were you?”

“Home,” Murdoc answered simply. Now that he was here the manic energy that had gotten him to the hospital was dissipating, replaced with a creeping fear. “Wha’s goin’ on with Noodle?”

Russel took the bottle from 2D and, to Murdoc’s surprise, took a drink too. “She’s in surgery right now for some breaks to her arm an’ her leg. They were worried about her neck n’ head so they’re gonna take a look at that stuff too.”

That didn’t sound that bad but before Murdoc could open his mouth 2D cut in. “T-they said she had a big bump on her noggin and that might m-mean her brain is bruised or somthin’.” That was worse.

“S’all my fault, I bumped into her and pushed her out i-in front of that car,” 2D blubbered. Russel patted his knee gently.

“Nah D, it wasss an accident.” And it wasn’t even his fault, it was Murdoc’s. Murdoc pushed him, Murdoc should have been looking, Murdoc  _ killed her— _

“Oh Jeeze Muds, you don’t look so good. How much have you had to drink?” 2D asked, pressing a hand to the bassist's forehead. His hands were cold and felt good against Murdocs heated skin. Why was he so hot?

“More than tha’,” he answered, gesturing to the bottle. 2D and Russel shared a look.

“Anything else mate?” 2D prodded. Murdoc was having trouble stringing thoughts together but managed to roll his head back against the wall to make proper eye contact.

“Pills, dunno wha’ they were.” Now Russel looked really worried. He got up and started scanning around.

“I’m gonna go get a nurse, you watch him D.” 2D nodded.

Murdoc was having a harder and harder time remembering what he was doing at the hospital. Something about Noodle… and a car? He knew it was his fault, whatever it was. He could feel this overwhelming guilt seeping from every pore of his body and in that moment  _ had _ to tell 2D it was him.

“I di’ it D, I’ was me…” he drawled, pawing at the singer's arms. “I kill’d ‘er mate.”

“What are you sayin’ Muds?” God, he was so dense! Murdoc gripped his arms tighter, trying to literally shake the sense into him but his hands wouldn’t work right.

“I-I killed N-N-, I-I-I,” and then he was vomiting so hard his vision sparkled, all over his bare feet and 2D’s Doc Martins. Stu yelped and Murdoc groaned.

“Russel!” 2D shouted, and Russ came jogging over with a nurse in tow. Murdoc wanted to wave them all off, tell them he was fine so he could puke in peace, but now his mouth wasn’t working too well, and his vision was getting too fuzzy to see.

“You said he’s been drinking and took some unknown pills?” the nurse asked. “Is this a normal thing for him?”

“F’ off,” Murdoc mumbled. 2D ignored him and answered.

“Yeah, he’s always drinking and doing whatever drugs he can get his hands on. We’re in a band.”

The nurse was checking his pulse and looking in his eyes, all of which annoyed the hell out of Murdoc. “I think he’s overdosing, sit tight and I’ll call a code.”

“Oh jeeze ok. Fuckin’ hell mate you had to go do this now?” 2D asked. Murdoc wanted to tell him that it was because he killed Noodle but everything was just so much effort. Sleep sounded really,  _ really _ good to the bassist about now.

The last thing he heard was the nurse calling for assistance, and 2D, calling his name.

* * *

Murdoc was a fucking idiot. Not only was 2D worried sick about Noodle, but now he had to worry about Muds overdosing or something. At least now they had a private room with the bassist laid out on the bed instead of sitting in the waiting room. 

There had been a lot of running around and 2D was having trouble following what was going on but the long and short of it was Murdoc is an idiot and they still didn’t know anything about Noodle. 2D fiddled with the lid of his pill jar nervously, even though he’d already taken all the medication he safely could.

“Taken it easy there D, we don’t need you laid up in a bed too,” Russel warned.

“Don’t worry Russ, I’m bein’ careful. Besides, I wanna be able to see Noods when they let us.” He refused to think about the possibility he might not see her again. God, it was all his fault...

Russel made a sound of agreement. “Well I think I’m gonna go get some coffee or something, you want some tea?” 2D nodded.

“And something to eat please Russ!”

“You got it D, text me if you need me.” That left 2D alone with Murdoc, and his thoughts.

Murdoc hadn’t woken up since he passed out in the waiting room, but the nurses said they’d pumped his stomach and given him some fluids and that he would be fine in a little while. Stu was glad that Muds was going to be ok but still, he was kind of pissed at the bassist. He couldn’t stay sober just this once and be there for the band. He hadn’t seen the other this trashed since Plastic Beach and even then he’d never OD’d. If 2D could stay sober for Noodle right now, seeing as he was the one that bumped her out in front of the car and all, then Murdoc could.

Which yeah, that was a whole other thing. 2D and his stupid, clumsy self was the whole reason Noodle was even here to begin with. He should have been careful and known better than to bother Murdoc when he  _ knew _ he was hung over.

Head in his hands 2D started to cry again. It felt like he’d been crying since the accident, he’d barely been able to give the paramedics the information they needed in the ambulance. And when Murdoc hadn’t answered his phone he’d had to call Russel it took a good five minutes for Russel to get the information out of him.

The shifting of blankets made 2D look up from his hands and wipe his eyes. Murdoc was stirring on the bed, feet kicking uselessly against the starchy hospital sheets. His face was scrunched up in distaste and… fear? 2D sniffled and leaned over the bed, hands hovering uselessly. He’d seen Muds passed out hundreds of times and the man was usually pretty much dead to the world. But now he was moving about, and mumbling almost like he was having a nightmare. 2D wouldn’t have blamed him, after seeing what they had that afternoon.

Noodle laid out on the paving, blood trickling down her face. It was enough to give anyone bad dreams. 2D was pretty sure he wouldn’t be sleeping well for a long while, not that he did in the first place.

“What are we gonna do Muds?” he whispered. “I was kinda hoping you’d barge in here and take charge like ya usually do, but I guess that’s not going to happen.”

“Russ is trying to be the leader right now but you know that’s just not his style, and I’ve never really been the leader type.” Stu thought that him talking was making Muds stop fidgeting so much so he kept going.

“Meant to ask him how he got so much smaller so fast…” he trailed off, the silence of the hospital room buzzing in his ears.

“What of she doesn’t wake up Murdoc? What if I killed her?” he breathed. Of course, Murdoc didn’t answer.

“W-what if she’s just dead? A-a-and I’m the o-one who pushed her! O-oh God what w-w-was the last thing I even said to her?” he sobbed.

After a few moments of quiet crying, 2D heard the door open. Russel walked in two take-away cups and a bag of food containers in hand.  2D sniffled but still smiled up at him.

“Hey D, you doin’ alright in here?” the other asked as he handed over a warm cup of peppermint tea. Stu let the soothing steam calm him down before turning back to the bed.

“Yeah Russel, I’m fine. Just got a bit emotional is all.” Russel handed him over a food carton that smelled strongly of curry. “Muds started kicking up a fuss for a lil’ while but he seems ok now. Still no news on Noodle.”

Russel nodded and dug into his own food. “I wasn’t gone that long, so I’m not surprised. It’s probably gonna be a long night.”

He wasn’t wrong. They’d been lucky enough to get a room with a window, so they got the pleasure of watching the sunset over the highway. Not like there was anything else to watch, the room didn’t come with a TV or anything exciting, so 2D and Russel kept themselves busy playing eye-spy with the cars stuck in traffic. The uncomfortable hospital chairs were just starting to really get to 2D’s ageing back when a nurse slipped into the room and a clipboard in hand.

“Are you the family of… Noodle?” he asked. “I’m looking for her father but it isn’t clear on her chart…”

“Oh yeah, that’s us!” 2D shouted. Murdoc, surprisingly, didn’t move a muscle. Russel jabbed a finger at him.

“He’s her dad on paper, but we’re all her guardians. What’s goin’ on with her?” he asked.

The nurse looked confused for a moment but seemed to brush it off. “I was asked to let you know that she’s out of surgery and in a recovery room, though she isn’t awake. They’ve decided to keep her in a medically induced coma while they monitor her recovery. If you’d like I can take you to see her.”

“Yes please!” 2D jumped up and began all but pushing the nurse back out the door.

“Shouldn’t one of us stay with Muds, in case he wakes up?” Russel asked, but he was getting up as well. 2D waved his hands dismissively.

“Muds’ll be fine I’m sure, come on Russ let’s go see Noodle!” So they followed the nurse out into the hallway. He led them into an elevator, up a few floors, and into the ICU recovery ward.

“Now gentlemen I need to let you know that your friend is in pretty bad shape, but it looks worse than it is ok? Oh, and please, try to be quiet.”

Russel nodded along, but 2D wasn’t paying attention. He was already heading into the room and up to the bed that held Noodle. He had to see that she was alive with his own eyes before he could think about anything else.

Noodle looked a lot like she had this morning when he’d gone to wake her up. Peaceful, snuggled up underneath blankets with messy hair splayed over the pillow. But Stu couldn’t ignore the huge bruise along the right side of her head and neck or the bulky casts on her arm and leg. His heart clenched and his eyes began to water.

“Oh Noods, oh God,” he whispered, wringing his hands.

“Hey D, don’t just run off like that man. How is she?” Russel asked as he calmly approached the bed. He reached out and tucked a few strands of hair behind Noodle’s ear tenderly. “Damn.”

“Y-yeah,” 2D agreed. “What do we do now?”

Russel sat down in the chair beside the bed. “Well, the nurse says they want to keep her asleep for at least a week, so not much I guess. I was thinkin’ we could take turns sitting with her, and keepin’ her company.”

2D nodded. “O-ok that sounds good Russ. I-I can stay with her right now if you wanna go home.”

Russell shook his head. “I think maybe you should stay with Murdoc, at least for tonight. He’s obviously doin’ pretty bad and you’re closer to him than I am,” he explained. 2D wasn’t so sure.

“But Muds can handle himself, and Noodle is like this ‘cause of me…” he protested. Russel didn’t respond for a couple seconds, and they were surrounded by the beeping and quiet whirring of machines keeping Noodle alive. The sound of her mechanicalized breathing sent shivers down 2D’s spine.

“D, I know you wanna stay with Noodle but… D, somethin’s going on with Murdoc. He’s always been reckless and into some dangerous stuff but today was somethin’ else man,” Russel insisted.

“What’re you saying Rus?” 2D asked. So much had happened in the last 12 hours that he felt like his brain was running at least an hour behind.

“I’m saying that Murdoc might be a reckless asshole, but he isn’t an idiot. I think he mighta OD’d on purpose.” Russel was nothing if not blunt.

2D gaped at him. “You’re kiddin’ me.”

“I dunno man, he was so messed up he musta taken a whole hell of a lot as soon as he got home. You know the guy’s not stable, he’s not gonna handle this whole situation with Noodle well.”

“I mean… maybe. I dunno Russ.” 2D was still unsure. He knew Murdoc was all over the place most of the time, he’d seen that on Plastic Beach. But would the guy really OD just like that? Stu’s head hurt.

“I just think you should take him home and make sure he’s OK. I’ll let you know if anything changes with Noodle.” Russel seemed like he’d made up his mind, and 2D wasn’t really going to argue. It was probably for the best that Russel took charge here.

“Yeah, alright Rus. Jus’ jus’ message me OK?” Russel nodded and 2D approached the bed. Stroking Noodles hair gently. “Love you Nood’s, get better soon.”

Hesitantly, 2D left the room. He felt like he was doing the wrong thing, that he should  _ be there _ for Noodle but if Rus thought he shouldn’t well… He didn’t deserve to see her anyway.

* * *

Cold. Murdoc could feel the freezing temperature numbing the tip of his nose and he sneezed loudly. Did 2D trip the power again with his stupid keyboard experiments? Or maybe that oaf Russel ran into a power line while trying to take a piss; no, Russ wasn’t huge anymore, was he? Wait, wasn’t he at the hospital or some shit?

Noodle!

Murdoc shot up in the bed, and immediately doubled over. A splitting pain streaked from the back of his head to the front, and rolling nausea flooded his senses. An IV tugged in his arm as he flailed in a desperate attempt to not puke in his own lap. He felt hands on him, grabbing his arm, and he jumped.

“Mr Niccalls! Please lay back down you’re going to disconnect your IV!,” the nurse exclaimed. Murdoc, still too out of it to understand, struggled harder, finally ripping free of the machine and getting to his feet.

“Get outta my way, you pillock,” he snarked. He was naked, bare-assed to the world except for the hospital gown and it was bloody  _ cold _ . “What happened to the wankers I was here with, big fat guy and a string-bean. On that note,  _ what happened to me _ ?”

The nurse looked peeved but took a step back. “Your chart says you overdosed on prescription painkillers and alcohol. Your friends were here with you, but left a few minutes ago to see your… daughter?”

Fear, sharp and hot, replaced nausea. “Yeah, Noodle. Is she alright?” He tried to sound casual but judging by the nurses face he hadn’t managed it.

“I was told she was out of surgery sir,” he answered. “Would you like for me to page someone for you?”

“No, no… just get me those, whaddya call ‘em papers, will you?” Exhausted just from standing for a few minutes he sat back down on the bed. “And my clothes.”

The nurse looked like he wanted to argue but couldn’t be bothered. “Alright Mr Niccalls, I’ll be back with your belongings and an Against Medical Advice form.” He left and Murdoc sighed with relief.

So he’d OD’d. Wasn’t the first time, and wouldn’t be the last. It came with the rockstar territory. It also came with the alcoholic junkie territory but he didn’t think about that. So he’d been a little careless, maybe a little  _ emotional _ . He was fine, Noodle was fine, the band was fine.  _ Noodle is fine. _

But it wasn’t fine because even if Noodle wasn’t dead she was still in a coma, still had broken bones and  _ he’d _ caused it. All because of his stupid temper. Why was he getting so  _ emotional _ about all of this anyway? He was Murdoc Fucking Niccalls, this shit wasn’t like him. Well, the getting shitfaced was but not all these feelings. When had he gotten so attached.?

Dwelling on stuff like this was something he tried to avoid at all times, with the aid of substances, women, men, music. Anything to avoid thinking so much.

“Oh, you’re awake.” For the second time in half an hour, Murdoc nearly jumped out of his skin. Standing awkwardly in the door 2D looked him over. “You look like shit Muds.”

“And you look like a prat,” he bit back with almost no malice. “That nurse bloke’s gone to get my stuff and then they’re releasin’ me.”

“Oh,” 2D answered. “Is that safe? Seein’ as you just overdosed and all…”

The nurse from before came back and set a bag with Murdoc’s things in it on the bed, along with a stack of papers. “OK Mr Niccals, just sign these stating that you’re leaving against medical advice and we can release you.”

“Against advice… Muds are you sure—”

“I  _ am _ a doctor 2D, I’m just followin’ my own advice. And my advice is that I need to get the fuck out of here,” Murdoc snapped. His name signed all over the papers and fluttered his hands at the nurse. “Now go on you, unless you’re stickin’ around for the show.” The nurse rolled his eyes and left just as Murdoc pulled the pants he’d been wearing out of the bag.

He couldn’t tell if 2D looked away or not, not that he’d care either way. “I-I saw Noodle,” 2D stuttered.

“Yeah?” Pants first, then trousers, then shirt. No shoes, but that was his fault.

“Y-yeah, they said she’s gonna b-be sleepin’ for a while but should be OK. Russ’s w-w-with her.” That was all that was in the bag, the fuckers must have stolen his rum.

“Good, good.” Murdoc answered absentmindedly. 2D grunted and strode around the bed to stand in front of Murdoc.

“Do, do you wanna go see her?” he asked. Murdoc froze halfway through threading his belt through the loops of his trousers. Did he want to go see her? Could he handle seeing the damage he’d caused, could he deal with seeing his baby girl hooked up to all those tubes?

“You said she’s fine yeah, and Russ is with her? Then I don’t think they need me in there.” He knew that he deserved to go up there and face what he had done but he couldn’t he just  _ couldn’t _ . Not now, he’d come back when he was more prepared (drunk). He would.

“Oh… ok Muds,” 2D mumbled. “I guess we can go home th-then if you say you’re feelin’ alright.”

Dressed and feeling much more like himself, Murdoc grunted. “Alright let’s go then, lead the way Dent-Face.”


	3. Sleeping

Murdoc’s phone was dead so they had to use 2D’s to call an Uber. They leaned against a wall a respectable distance away from the emergency department doors and smoked while waiting.

“It’s probably not a good idea to be smokin’ right after you got outta the hospital for OD’ing Muds…” 2D chastised, taking a long drag off his own fag.

“Sod off, I’m a doctor,” Murdoc shot back. 2D side-eyed him with a smirk.

“You already said that Muds.”

“Fuck. Off. I’m not in the mood 2D,” he snapped back. 2D flinched and took a few cautious steps away from the bassist.

“Sorry…” He really couldn’t get a read on Murdoc. He kept thinking about what Russ had said that maybe Murdoc had overdosed on purpose yesterday. But today he seemed like his normal, nasty self. 2D thought he was actually pretty good at reading people most of the time—he’d had a lot of practise— but Murdoc was usually a bit of a mystery.

Their Uber pulled up and both men stubbed their cigarettes out and climbed in. It wasn’t a long drive but since both of them were silent it felt like it. 2D fidgeted with whatever he could get his hands on, the buttons of his shirt, his shoelaces, the car door buttons until Murdoc finally snapped.

“Stop fidgeting! You’re driving me bloody crazy,” he shouted, making both 2D and the driver jump. He didn’t hit him though, and 2D noticed that the bassist seemed to be holding himself back.

“Sorry Muds, sorry,” he apologised. They were just rounding the corner and the Uber driver pulled up to Wobble Street and 2D quickly clambered out of the car to get away from Murdoc should he change his mind about the whole not hitting him thing. Except his fidgeting had unlaced his shoes and he tripped flat on his face trying to get out.

Murdoc was slower to get out but he still saw the tail end of 2D’s fall. The singer was tangled up in knots with his own limbs and usually, that’d get a good laugh out of him but this time it didn’t. The Uber driver sped off and left 2D in the dust to pick himself up.

“Get yourself together 2D,” Murdoc grumbled, passing the singer and walking up the steps. 2D flailed for another few seconds before figuring out his right from his left and managing to stand and followed him in.

The house still smelled faintly of gas. 2D could see the cereal bowls from he and Noodle’s breakfast still sitting by the sink. He felt a funny sinking feeling in his chest that he didn’t think had anything to do with the unwashed dishes on the kitchen table.

“Get out of the way Face-Ache.” Murdoc barged into him where he was idling in the kitchen doorway on his way to the fridge. The older man pulled out a 6-pack of beer and a bottle of vodka, bumping the fridge shut with his hip.

“A-are you gonna drink all that?” he asked nervously, Russ’s words echoing in the back of his head.

“Do pigs shit?” Murdoc fired back, already heading out of the kitchen and up the stairs. 2D started panicking. He’d already put one bandmate in danger today and now Murdoc was going to give himself alcohol poisoning after just getting out of the hospital; he didn’t know what to do.

“Uh… well… can I join ya?” he asked, surprising himself. Murdoc stopped dead and looked back at him like he’d lost his mind. The singer expected him to tell him to fuck off again but instead, he shrugged, bottles jostling dangerously.

“Suit yourself mate, but you better grab your own booze,” he said as he kept climbing the stairs. 2D starred for a bit before running up the stairs himself and bursting into his own room instead. Rifling through his own bedside drawer and pulled out when he was looking for, a baggie of weed he’d bought the other day and nearly forgotten about. Maybe if he got Murdoc to smoke some he’d fall asleep before he could drink too much.

Approaching Murdoc’s room 2D tried to calm himself down. He was just going to have a few drinks with his mate, maybe smoke a little, just like they used to back in the day. It’d been a hard day, they both needed to unwind a little, forget what’d happened just for a little while and get some sleep.

He knocked on Murdoc’s door frame before ambling into the dimly lit space. Unlike that morning the bedside light was on, making it possible to see where he was going, at least a little. Murdoc was propped up on the bed, one of the six-pack on the floor and another in his hand. In the other hand, he held a cigarette, the ash of which was falling all over the comforter, but Murdoc didn’t seem to care.

“H-hey Muds, I brought some weed,” he stuttered. That caught Murdoc’s attention and he set the beer down, reaching into the comforter and pulling out, as if by magic, a pack of rolling papers, from the dusty folds. He patted the bed and gestured for 2D to come sit.

“Ah, brilliant mate. Give it here.” Murdoc held out his hand as 2D sat down. 2D didn’t give him the weed.

Instead, he held out his hand for the papers. “Muds we both know you’re right shit at rolling a joint, let me do it,” he insisted. Murdoc sighed and tossed the pack at his head, giving a light chuckle and Stu’s stunned face. 2D smiled a little at the familiar exchange and grabbed the box, pulling out the papers and getting down to business.

“So…” He wasn’t really sure what they were supposed to talk about now. Murdoc reached for the bottle he’d set down and 2D felt the panic rise again. “So uh…  you OD’d.” 2D wanted to slap himself for being so stupid.

Murdoc snorted into his beer. “Uh, yeah, I guess mate. It happens sometimes, you know how it is?”

“I guess, like we all overdo it sometimes but… well the nurse said you were real bad.” This wasn’t the topic he’d meant for them to be talking about. He wanted to cheer the bassist up, get his mind off things, not drive him to drink more. The joint in his hands, perfectly packed and rolled, hung limply.

Murdoc didn’t say anything. Instead, he motioned for 2D to hand him the joint and lit it taking one long, drawn-out drag before handing it back. His face was blank, his stare focused entirely on the bottle in his hand. 2D took his own drag.

“It was just so scary you know, first Noodle and then you, and we didn’t know if either of you was gonna make it and—” He was rambling now, all those emotions he’d kept bottled up trying to be brave in the hospital and the Uber were coming out.

“If I-I had been bein’ more careful we’d probably all be sleepin’ or playin’ video g-games right now,” he cried, head in his hands, joint nearly falling out of his loose grip. Murdoc sighed and took it from him, finishing it off.

“Don’t beat yourself up D, it wasn’t your fault,” he ground out. Trying to stifle his sobs, 2D wiped his nose on his sleeve and pulled his long legs up underneath him, getting comfortable on the bed.

“Wadaya mean Muds? I’m the one who bumped into her and made her fall in front of that van,” 2D argued, off-put by the fact that Murdoc of all people seemed to be trying to comfort him.

“I mean,” Murdoc shifted uncomfortably, making eye contact with 2D’s collarbones, “I mean, I pushed you, didn't I? It’s my fault you bumped into her.” The beer was abandoned for few mouthfuls of vodka. “I couldn’t act like a _fucking_ adult and I pushed you and now Noodle’s all busted up.”

2D watched, wide-eyed, as Murdoc continued to word-vomit. “I _fuckin’ killed her_ 2D and I couldn’t handle that so, yeah, I came home and I took a whole bunch of pills and drank a whole lot of booze to forget. It was a stupid, one-time decision but...” Murdoc paused, voice shaking.

“It’s what I deserve for killin’ her.” More vodka. 2D watched the tremor of Murdoc’s hands, mirrored in his voice, slosh the alcohol around the bottle like a snowglobe. “I couldn’t face everyone after killin’ her a second time.”

“But she’s not dead Muds,” 2D said quietly, not entirely sure how to comfort his friend. Murdoc wasn’t big on physical contact, though he didn’t seem to mind it from 2D too much on occasion, so he took a risk an placed a hand on other’s knee.

“She could wake up and her brains all scrambled, she could wake up and not be able to play the guitar anymore.” It was more than Murdoc’s hands and voice that were shaking now. “What if she _hates me_.”

It was rare for Murdoc to share any personal details that weren’t complete bullshit. 2D had known him long enough to see him through a number of drunken breakdowns and drug-induced rages, but he’d never seen him so vulnerable and worried about someone other than himself.

“She won’t hate you, I mean, you built a cyborg of her and replaced her with it and she didn’t hate you so I don’t even think she can.” Comforting had never been his strong point but at least it was the truth.

Murdoc visibly flinched at 2D’s statement but didn’t shake off the comforting hand. “I’m a piece of shit,” he sighed. “Why do you all even keep me around?”

“‘Cause you’re family Muds,” 2D answered simply, and again it was the truth. “We’ve all done some right shit stuff, and well, at least this was an accident yeah?”

Murdoc didn’t answer, and 2D looked away to pretend he didn’t see the other man wiping his eyes. Luckily he still had the weed and papers in front of him and could busy his nervous hand rolling another joint. He finished it off and quickly took a hit, handing it to the now calmer Murdoc.

“Thanks,” the bassist grunted. He seemed to have calmed down a little, or maybe the weed and booze were starting to take effect.

“Don’t mention it,” 2D replied. They sat for a little while longer, Murdoc drinking and smoking and 2D joining in with the occasional sip of beer. He felt like maybe he should say something else. Russel would know what to say if he was here, or Noodle.

“Ey, 2D?” Murdoc rasped. 2D jumped but turned to face the bassist.

“Yeah Murdoc?” he answered. The other man was fiddling with the half-full vodka bottle, swishing the liquor around.

“D’you ever think about how things woulda been if I didn’t hit you with that car?” The older shifted uncomfortably. “Like we wouldn’ta had the band, Russel would still be workin’ at that record shop, and Noodle would be Satan knows where. Plastic Beach wouldn’t—”

2D leapt up startling Murdoc. “No, I don’t really think about it, that much. Things happened and they are how they are now. I think I’m gonna go to bed now, goodnight,” he said. Murdoc looked surprised by the sudden change in mood, but 2D didn’t care as he quickly made his way out of the room.

Closing Murdoc’s door behind him 2D felt a little better with the physical barrier between them. Why was everyone so intent on talking about Plastic Beach? Hadn’t he made it clear that he _did not_ want to talk about it? Why couldn’t they all just leave well enough alone and let him be?

Any sense of the good mood he’d had from drinking with Murdoc was gone by now, and really he just wanted to go to bed and forget today ever even happened. Stumbling into his own bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him, he slid into bed in nothing but his underwear.  Stu could feel a mild throbbing behind his eyes, the beginnings of a headache. Tiredly he groped around on his bedside table, finding a prescription bottle and pouring a generous number of pills into his hand, then into his mouth. It only took a few minutes for the pills to kick in, making Stu drowsy and easing him off to sleep.

* * *

_Blood, blood everywhere and screaming tires. Noodle goes through the windshield of a Vauxhall Astra—no that wasn’t right—2D broken and bloody on the pavement. Noodle again, broken face and busted teeth inches from his own, screaming as blood poured from her mouth. 2D, his skeletal hands wrapped around Murdoc’s ankles, his legs useless and dragging behind him through the mud and dirt. Murdoc tried to fight the two of them off but they were dragging him, dragging him where he—_

Murdoc woke up screaming. The comforter was wrapped tightly around his legs, the dream leaking into real life. He thrashed violently trying to get free, knocking the vodka bottle—empty— he’d fallen asleep cradling to the floor. It shattered loudly, and the sound warped in his half-asleep mind, echoing into the shriek of metal on bone. By sheer luck, his manic flailing freed both legs, and he immediately drew himself up to the wall with a distressed grunt.

Slowly, he became aware of the reality around him, that he had been dreaming, but that didn’t stop his heart from beating at an unnaturally fast pace. Pressing the heels of his hands hard into his eyes and drawing his knees in close, Murdoc tried to calm down.

“Just a dream, just a dream,” he muttered like one of 2D’s stupid mantras. He’d heard the idiot muttering to himself in the bathroom in the morning. It gave him something other than the panic to think about. It was slow going, but he felt his heartbeat calming down little by little and he was nearly ready to uncurl from his defensive position when a timid knock at the door sent his pulse skyrocketing again.

“Uh, h-hey Murdoc, you ok in there?” 2D’s obnoxious voice filtered through the door. “I heard some shoutin’ and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Murdoc didn’t answer, anxiety and adrenaline choking him almost violently. He was noticing now the way his head ached and stomach rolled, tell-tale signs of a handover, and the last thing he wanted was for 2D to barge in here. He didn’t know how he could stop him coming in without being able to speak, so instead, he focused on breathing normally and waited.

As expected, the door cracked open not long after and 2D, dressed only in his skivvies and a t-shirt, tip-toed in. Taking a moment to survey the scene—the broken bottle, the rumpled sheets, and Murdoc wedged into the corner of his matress—Murdoc knew 2D could only come to one conclusion.

“Bad nightmares mate?” he asked. Murdoc could only nod, teeth gritted with annoyance. 2D of course, didn’t really pick up on this and walked fully into the room, coming to sit on the end of the bed much like he had last night.

“Were they about Noodle, and uh, the accident?” Ever an idiot, 2D kept pushing. Murdoc rolled his eyes and nodded again. He could see Stu wavering between leaving and staying to try his hand at comforting again. Murdoc hoped he’d leave so he could drink this hangout back into submission and maybe pass out for the rest of the day.

“I didn’t sleep so good either.” Murdoc didn’t give a shit. He wanted 2D to leave _right now_ ,  and the chokehold on his voice was finally slackening enough for him to say something when 2D surprised him by bursting into tears. Big ugly sobs tore through the skinny man, and Murdoc shifted uncomfortably. Stu was saying something muddled by sobbing, from what Murdoc could understand he was apologising for something or other. Satan knew what.

Ignoring his own discomfort Murdoc shuffled down the bed to sit beside 2D, leaving a few inches of space between them. A few days ago he would have shoved the man out the door, maybe thrown in a few slaps for good measure. But since the accident something had changed in Murdoc, some tiny piece of his psyche had twisted and the thought of hurting another member of his family made him feel physically ill. Or maybe that was the vodka, it was hard to tell.

“2D…” What was he supposed to say? Sorry I pushed one of your family members in front of a moving car, now can you leave me alone please?  That didn’t feel quite right. Your crying is annoying and unproductive, get the fuck out of my room before I lose my patience with you? Even worse. What do you want me to do here, your crying and carrying on is making me feel things I don’t like?

Well, that was worse than all of them together.

He was saved from having to actually say anything embarrassing by 2D, who took advantage of Murdoc’s close proximity by throwing his arms around the bassist and continuing to cry into his shoulder.

Stunned for a few seconds, Murdoc sat motionless as 2D soaked his t-shirt with tears. The other man was warm, really really warm, and smelled sweaty and a little like the hospital. Murdoc tried to remember when the last time he’d hugged someone was. Or the last time he’d even been in close contact with someone like this. He’d gone on a bit of a binge once he’d gotten free after being kidnapped, birds and booze and enough speed to make any man happy for the rest of his life. But after that well, it had been quite a while since he’d had a good roll in the hay, or even really, a friendly hug.

So when 2D, still crying, still getting snot all over his collar, tightened his hold around Murdoc’s shoulders he couldn’t help but slowly wrap his own arms around the other man and lean in. He could fool himself into thinking that he was just comforting Stu, just trying to get the dullard to stop crying so he’d leave. But really 2D’s warmth and the pressure of his arms around Murdoc’s neck was doing more to calm him down from the nightmare than any breathing exercise. It had been a bad few days, maybe just this once he could let himself have this, and not feel too shitty.

Gradually 2D calmed down as well, but he didn’t let go. He had shuffled closer, his head tucked underneath Murdoc’s chin. The bassist had settled back against the wall, arms wrapped loosely around his mate. Voices in the back of his head were screaming at him to push Stu off, that he didn’t deserve any comfort, but Murdoc had always been greedy. He’d always take when he could get, and a little bit more if he could get away with it.

A snore interrupted his self-hatred. 2D really hadn’t been kidding about not sleeping well, the poor sod had nodded off on Murdoc’s chest. The Murdoc of a few days ago would have kicked him off just to see him upset, but as it was now he was tired and 2D was quite comfortable for such a boney bastard. Getting a few more minutes of shut-eye didn’t sound too bad, so he leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, letting 2D’s soft snoring lull him into a light sleep.


	4. Pharmacy

Russel got home around nine in the morning after a long night of sitting by Noodle’s bed. Nothing had changed on that point, and the doctors told him that wouldn’t change for a while so he might as well go home and get cleaned up. He hadn’t wanted to leave her there but the nurses had promised to watch over her closely. 

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked in through the doors of Wobble Street. This was actually his first time inside, rather than on top of the apartment. He wasn’t too surprised at the mess, Murdoc and Noodle had never been big on cleaning, and 2D often just didn’t notice the mess. He was surprised at the axe in the wall, but not too much. You never knew what you were going to get sharing a house with Gorillaz.

It was suspiciously quiet in the house, which had Russel concerned. He’d been telling the truth when he’d said he was worried about Murdoc. He wasn’t sure if the quiet was a sign that everything had gone alright, or if it had all gone bad. 2D hadn’t texted him either way, so Russ had his fingers crossed.

He knew there was a spare bedroom upstairs that had been left for him, and that Noodle had made sure all his stuff was set up in there for a time when he could use it. So he headed up, taking in the mess and absolute chaos of the house. Now that he was living here, he’d have to try and get things back into shape.

Less than an hour later he was showered, changed, and curious as to where his bandmates were. He’s passed 2D’s room on his way to the bathroom and as far as he could tell, no one was inside. He figured he’d check Murdoc’s before panicking, so he wandered the halls until he found the right door. There wasn’t any sound coming through so at least they weren’t in there fighting, but Russel was getting a little nervous that they weren’t there at all.

He didn’t bother knocking, knowing that if they were both in there, there was a good chance they’d both been drinking all night and had passed out. So he opened the door inward and stepped inside the dimly lit space, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. What he got was somewhere in the middle.

Both men were cuddled up on the bed; 2D in his underwear drooling onto the stomach of Muds’ shirt, and Murdoc half sitting half lying against the wall with his arms securely around 2D’s waist.

“Uh, what the fuck?” Russ murmured, taking a step closer to the bed. Unfortunately, the poor lighting made it impossible for him to see all the shattered glass on the floor, and he stepped right on a shard with socked feet.

“Shit!” he shouted, scaring both men on the bed into jumping away from each other.

“What the—” 2D grumbled as he wiped a long string of drool from his mouth.

“Fuckin’ Hell!” Murdoc shrieked as he, for the second time that morning, he scampered up against the wall.

Russel was pissed. He’d spent all night sitting with Noodle, watching over her while she was in the hospital, and these two had spent the night cuddled up having a good time. Not to mention he had a bleeding foot to boot.

“What the fuck were you two doin’ all night and why’s there glass all over the damn place?” he growled. 2D looked sheepish and jumped up to help Russ, but Murdoc just looked embarrassed and a little pissed.

“What’re you doin’ in  _ my _ room, haven’t you heard of knocking?!” the bassist countered. Russel glared and Murdoc shrank back, adequately cowed. 

“S’my fault Russ, I woke Murdoc up this morning by accident and he dropped the bottle. I shoulda cleaned it up,” 2D apologised. He led Russ out the door and into the bathroom with Murdoc trailing behind them.

“It’s fine D, just grab me the first aid kit,” he answered. 2D disappeared out the door and Murdoc took his place in the bathroom, watching Russel take off his bloody sock.

“So what were you and 2D doin’ in your room Muds?” he asked. He wasn’t one to be judgemental but he had to admit he was a least a little curious.

Murdoc sputtered for a moment. “What’re you implyin’ there Russ?”

“You two looked pretty cozy is all I’m sayin’,” he answered, using some toilet paper to stop the blood flow.

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “He had a nightmare and came bustin’ into my room. Musta fell asleep after cryin’ all over me the idiot.”

“2D came rushing back in, bumping into Murdoc as he went. “Got the first aid kit Rus!” Russel eyed Murdoc as he grumbled, but didn’t react to the push.

“Thanks D, I can handle it from here. Why don’t you and Muds get some breakfast sorted out and then we can all talk about Noodle.” 2D and Murdoc both nodded. “And Murdoc don’t let him light the breakfast on fire this time yeah?”

* * *

Neither 2D or Murdoc were great cooks, but Murdoc could at least manage some bacon sandwiches. 2D was relegated to toasting the bread, something he did every day and rarely screwed up too bad, while Murdoc managed the actual cooking part. 

“Do you think you can manage cutting up some tomatoes and lettuce D, or is handlin’’ a knife to dangerous for you?” Murdoc asked. 2D scoffed.

“Don’t worry Murdoc, I can do it. At least I don’t leave the bloody oven on all night,” he snipped. Murdoc ignored him.

“Sod off, dullard. Or I’ll burn your bacon,” he threatened. “You’re lucky I’m even doin’ this, I’ve got a hell of a hangover.”

“I’d offer you some of my pills but I still don’t think you should be takin’ so many drugs after just gettin’ outta the hospital,” 2D answered. He’d managed to locate a clean knife and cutting board and was slowly making his way through the overripe tomatoes he’d found in the fridge.

“Says the man who was drinkin’ and rollin’ spliff’s with me last night,” Murdoc shot back.

“Pot’s different and you know it, ouch!” 2D recoiled from the knife and board, with his finger cradled close to his chest. He’d managed to knick it just a little while cutting the last piece of tomato and the juices stung the wound.

“Oh for fuck sakes D, don’t tell me you’ve gone and chopped your finger off or some shit.” Murdoc reached out and snagged Stu’s finger and gave it a once over. “Go get a bandage from Russ then, I’ll finish up here.”

“It’s fine Muds, it’s just a little scratch,” 2D argued, but Murdoc sent him a withering glare.

“Go. I won’t have your fingers rotting off and leaving Gorillaz without a pianist.” 2D nodded and slunk out of the kitchen. Murdoc was being weirdly caring, in his own right. 2D was sure he was in for a tiff this morning when he’d started crying all over the bassist, but instead, he’d gotten a hug. After that he’d slept even better than he had on his pills, nightmares no match for the comfort of a warm body.

2D popped his head back into the bathroom to see Russel just closing up the first aid kit. “There another bandage in there Rus? Had a bit of an accident in the kitchen.” He held out his bloody finger.

“Jesus D, you guys have been down there less than 15 minutes.” Russel sighed and reopened the kit, pulling out a plaster.

“It’s nothing big, just a scratch really, but Murdoc insisted I cover it up,” 2D answered. Russel stuck a bandage over the cut—it really was quite small— and repacked the kit.

“How’s he doin’ by the way. He seemed alright this morning,” Russel asked.

2D shrugged. “He started drinkin’ as soon as we got home last night and I joined him, to make sure he didn’t go overboard. I left after a while but I came back a few hours later after I heard a bottle smash and then we fell back asleep on accident.”

“Mmm, good. I was worried about leavin’ you two here alone.”

Stu paused at the top of the stairs for a second, wondering whether or not he should tell Russ the other stuff Murdoc had said. “He uh, he got a little drunk and he told me that it uh, it might have been on purpose, the overdose.”

Russel sighed. “Shit. I figured. We better keep an eye on him then. How’re you holding up D?”

2D shifted from foot to foot under Russel’s gaze. “Ok I guess, it’s hard you know?”

“Yeah, man, I know. Let's go get some food then we can sort this out yeah?” 2D nodded, glad that Russel was back and taking charge of the situation.

They arrived in the kitchen just as Murdoc was putting the last of the bacon sandwiches together. There was even coffee ready. 2D’s stomach growled and he eagerly sat down.

“Thanks, Muds!” he crooned, taking a big first bite of sandwich, grease dripping down his chin. 

“Yeah, thanks man, all I had to eat last night was vending machine snacks,” Russel sat down and dug in as well, though not as messily as 2D. Murdoc looked away at the praise, sipping from his mug.

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t get used to it.”

They ate mostly in silence. Murdoc spent most of the meal sipping coffee and barely picking at his food. 2D was glad to note than Murdoc hadn’t burnt his bacon, and had even remembered that he liked a little extra lettuce on his sandwich. Overall, the morning was turning out well, knife accident aside.

“So,” Russel began as they stacked the dishes, “the doctors didn’t really have a lot to say about when Noodle would be waking up. They did say that we should try not to visit too much right now though—”

“What!?” 2D cried, upset. Were they just supposed to leave her there all alone?

“Calm down D, I’m sure there’s a good reason, right Rus?” Murdoc patted his shoulder, again comforting him. Stu took a few deep breaths and nodded sadly.

“Right, she needs something they call ‘brain rest’ where she doesn’t use her brain at all for a long time to let it heal from the bump. So the more we come around the more she’ll be using her brain, listenin’ to us and stuff,” Russel explained. 2D was still upset.

“But she’s all alone in the hospital and that’s horrible!” A strange feeling of panic and sadness began welling up inside him. “We can’t just  _ leave her _ .”

“D, the doctors know what they’re doin’, it’s for the best.” Murdoc tried to calm him down but it was no use. Tears once again rolled down his cheeks as he pushed away from the table.

“Shut up Murdoc you don’t know anything! I’m not going to just abandon her like that!” he shouted and bolted from the room. The other two men didn’t try to stop him, and he made it all the way up to his room before breaking down.

How could they expect him to just leave Noodle there all alone with no one to talk to? None of them knew what it was like, being on your own, sick, no idea what had happened to you. The doctors were idiots! And Murdoc and Russel were willing to just listen to whatever they said, just because they went to some fancy school, instead of listening to 2D who had  _ lived through it _ . He balled himself up on his bed, crying for what felt like the millionth time since yesterday morning. It wasn't fair. 

* * *

 

Russel got up to stop 2D running off but Murdoc raised a hand.

“Let him go Russ, he needs some space I think.” Russel looked doubtful but listened.

“I didn’t think he’d get so upset,” he said. Murdoc shrugged a shoulder and offered more coffee, which Russ accepted.

“It was like that this morning too, one minute he was fine the next he was cryin’ all over me,” he answered. “It might have somethin’ to do with how when he was in his coma, before I got sentence to community service, he didn’t have any visitors.”

Russel’s eyes widened. “Even his parents?”

“Yeah, but in his case it wasn’t the doctors tellin’ them to say away. They just did. Couldn’t bear the sight of their sweet baby boy in a hospital bed, so they just didn’t come to see him,” Murdoc sneered. Even then he’d found Mr and Mrs Tusspot’s treatment of their son off-putting. He probably spent more time at Stu’s bedside then them both combined.

“Jeeze,” Russel sighed. “Well, he’s gonna have to sort his shit out, because the doctors told me not to come back for at least a couple of days. They said they’d update me every day though.”

“Good, good. Right then, I’m going back to sleep because I still feel like shit.” Murdoc got up, already looking forward to drinking his headache away.

“Actually, Muds, I wanted to ask how you’re doin’ after uh, OD’ing and all that.” Damn, Murdoc had been hoping to get away before Russ started asking questions like that. It seemed like everyone wanted to keep checkin’ in with him and coddling him and it was going to drive him crazy soon.

“I’m fine Russ, just a miscalculation is all. Don’t worry about old Murdoc.” Ok, now maybe he could get some fucking peace and quiet for a few hours. Annoyance thrummed through every nerve of his body as he waited to Russ to stop bothering him.

“I know it was on purpose, Murdoc.” The bassist stopped in his tracks.

“2D told you then?” he said through gritted teeth. That’s what he gets for being open for once, 2D blabbing to the entire world.

“Yeah, but only because I told him I thought it was on purpose back at the hospital. Just seemed too suspicious.” Russel’s voice was cool and even, a contrast the Murdoc’s shaking rage.

“And that’s your business why?” Burning, all-consuming rage roared through him and he stalked up to Russel’s chair, staring him down.

“What do you mean? Of course it’s my business. You’re my mate Murdoc.” Russel looked confused at Murdoc’s anger. “I know we haven’t always been close but I thought we were at least still friends.”

Russel was right, but Murdoc was still angry. He didn’t know what to do with all the  _ concern  _ his bandmates were showing for his well being. He’s made it 50-odd years without anyone giving a shit if he lived or died, and within the past 24 hours he’d had multiple people butting into his business with their  _ caring _ . He just wanted to be left alone.

“Yeah well, shove it up your arse Rus, and leave me be,” he snapped. Russel looked hurt but didn’t follow him out of the kitchen. He stomped up the stairs, ignoring 2D’s room and slamming into his own.

Wasting no time he stalked over to his alcohol stash and pulled out a few bottles. Popping the top on one right away he took a few large gulps and immediately felt more like himself.

“Bloody hell I musta been nearly sober…” he mumbled as he lay back on the bed. His bass taunted him from the opposite corner, but he wasn’t in the mood to play. Usually playing would help if he was in a bad mood, but the idea of making music reminded him of Noodle and he was trying to avoid that.

The first bottle went quickly, and he was well through the second when the idea to check out his social media. After struggling with the lock screen he was immediately inundated with tweets and messages.

_“Gorillaz Guitarist Hit by Car!”_

_“Gorillaz Noodle in Intensive Care Following Car Accident!”_

_“Murdoc Niccals in Hospital following Noodle’s Car Catastrophe!”_

The fans were going nuts, posting on his and Noodles fan pages, Tweeting out questions and well-wishes. Of course, there were a lot of assholes as well, and more than once he scrolled past nasty messages.

_“I bet it was Murdoc who hit Noodle with the car #fuckmurdoc”_

_“That stupid bitch didn’t belong in Gorillaz anyway, hope she dies”_

Line after line of hate and sensationalist news. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been this. The rage from before flared up again and he shot off a few tweets at the particularly nasty comments, and some thanks to the nice ones. The second bottle was done by the time he’d finished and he was having some trouble distinguishing the letters on the keyboard from one another. Feeling all around a bit better after his ranting he decided to call it a day and go see what 2D was up to.

With the purposeful walk of a seasoned alcoholic, he dodged the glass and sauntered over to 2D’s room. Judging by the sunlight coming in through the window, he’d been at Twitter longer than expected. He hoped 2D was doing better than he had been this morning.

“Ey D, you still in there?” he called through 2D’s door, braced against the frame. He waited a good couple seconds before calling again. “D, mate, where’d you go?”

He heard some shuffling behind the door and within a few seconds, 2D’s head popped through a crack in the door.

“What d’you want Muds?” he rasped. Murdoc took in his mate's scratchy voice and red eyes with a quick once-over.

“Came to cheer you up mate,” he said shaking the third bottle of rum in front of 2D. “You look like you could use a drink.”

2D eyed the bottle dubiously. “Weren’t you complaining about being hungover?” Despite his tone, he accepted the bottle and opened the door wider for Murdoc to come through. Murdoc grinned.

“Can’t be hungover if you’re drunk, D.” He tapped a finger to his nose. 2D laughed wetly and took a large swallow of rum, gesturing for Murdoc to sit somewhere in the room.

“True that mate, true that.” 2D sat on his piano bench across from the bed. Murdoc settled on a beanbag chair in the corner.

They passed the bottle back and forth for a little bit without much conversation, a lot like the night before. 2D didn’t have the tolerance of Murdoc’s years of binge drinking, and after half the bottle he was swaying in his seat, a frown on his face.

“It’s jus’ not fair Muds, Noodle’s gonna be scared an’ alone an’ we can’t even visit?” he said. Murdoc sighed and set the bottle down, instead opting to rifle through 2D’s drawers for a joint.

“It’s not about bein’ fair, Stu, it’s about what’s best for Noodle-girl.” He made a triumphant sound as he pulled one out that looked brand new. “You mind if I smoke this?”

2D waved him off. “But what if she’s sort of awake, like I was, an’ she doesn’t know that we don’t wanna leave her alone?” He’d already begun slurring his words.

Murdoc lit the joint and took a few good puffs, passing it on to 2D who didn’t shy away. “Well, why don’t we just get the doc to explain it to her, then if she can hear ‘em she’ll know.”

“You’re a genius Muds! But do ya think they’ll do it?” Murdoc shrugged.

“They might do, we are rockstars after all.” 2D nodded looking significantly calmer.

“I’m jus’ so worried about her…” Murdoc was too. He wasn’t used to having people in his life that he cared about, even after all these years with Gorillaz. A mixture of warmth and anxiety had been settling in his stomach ever since he’d found out Noodle was alive, and overall he didn’t know what to do with the new feeling except drink and smoke it away.

“Yeah well, there’s not much we can do now is there? You might want to apologise to poor Russ though.” 2D jumped up and nearly fell over.

“Oh yer righ’ Muds! I went an’ yelled at ‘im for nuttin’!” Murdoc laughed as 2D wobbled about.

“Oh tell him later D, you’re drunk as a skunk.” With a grunt, he stood up and helped the lanky man to sit on the bedside. “Besides, you can apologise to me for blabbin’ about my own personal matters to Russ.”

2D pulled a comically confused face, before suddenly realising what Murdoc was going on about. “OH! Yeah, uh, but he al-already knew Muds! You know I’m not so good at lyin’”

Murdoc sat beside him heavily and 2D flinched. “I-I didn’t mean to Muds, I s-swear,” he babbled.

“Oh shut up Stu, I’m not gonna hit ya,” Murdoc sighed. “Jus’ don’t do it again alrigh'? That shit’s personal."

2D nodded frantically. “Y-Yeah Murdoc. He was jus’ worried about ya…”

“I know D,” Murdoc answered. They were out of pot and alcohol, and it was getting dark outside. “You got anythin’ else in here that’s any fun?”

2D looked around blearily and gestured to the bedside table. “I dunno, but help yerself to anythin’ you find.” Murdoc bumbled his way off to the drawer and rifled through. Condoms, playing cards, bit and pieces of keyboards, entirely too many switchblades, and a good helping of pill bottles.

“Mmm Codeine, Hydromorphone, Tramadol; you’ve bloody got your own pharmacy in ‘ere D,” he remarked, taking a couple pills for himself. 2D waved a hand around noncommittally.

“I’ve got a lot of aches Muds,” he insisted, holding out a hand for Murdoc to drop a few pills into.

“More like you've got a few addiction’s mate,” Murdoc snickered. Pills weren’t really his thing, but zoning out for a few hours sounded good.

“Sod off, yer one ta talk,” Stu mumbled. He moved over and made room for Murdoc on the bed and both men leaned back on 2D’s sheets.

“It’s a lot like back at Kong, eh Stu? Jus’ you and me and th’ Winnie, gettin’ plastered,” Murdoc reminisced. Of course back then he’d been more into speed, but the nostalgia was still there.

“Yeah.. we used ta get inta all sorts o’ trouble back then, didn’t we?” 2D chuckled. Downstairs Murdoc could hear Russel doing something in the kitchen, probably eating the fat-ass. He turned on his side to face Stu, one knee bent up with an arm around it. 2D was flat on his back, hands behind his head, black eyes glazed and unfocused.

“That we did, Stuart,” Murdoc chuckled. “You remember th’ time we spent all our food money on booze an’ we had ta steal from tha’ Salvation Army bloke?”

2D snorted. “Tha’ was all you! Serves the 'omophobic bastards right though, don’t it?” Murdoc nodded in agreement, distracted a bit by the way the ceiling lights reflected in 2D’s black sclera. He remembered the soft weight of the other man on his chest this morning, the relaxing presence of another person that had been missing from his bed for months.  

“Ya alright there Murdoc?” 2D drew out the last syllables of his name, the ‘c’ clicking in a lovely fashion that made something in the bassist's belly squirm. He shook his head violently, looking away.

“To be honest D, I think I’m high outta my mind right now,” he said. 2D laughed and rolled on his side as well, face inches from Murdoc’s own. The Satanist swallowed.

“Me too Muds, me too. Ya know wha’ tha’ means?” Stu leaned in even more and Murdoc could smell the alcohol on his breath. Murdoc’s sluggish pulse picked up, and he looked longingly at the singer's lips.

“PIZZA!” 2D shouted, scaring the wits out of Murdoc and sending him tumbling off the bed. The bassist could feel the bruises forming on his tailbone as he lay flat on the floor. His foggy mind couldn’t find it to be angry at his mate, so instead, he sighed dramatically and raised a thumb in agreement. 2D cheered and scrambled off the bed, probably off to convince Russel to call for pizza.

"Satan’s sake,” he grumbled up at the ceiling. He needed to get laid. Soon.


	5. Fireflies

Russel hadn’t been too happy with how sloshed the two were, but he did agree to order the pizza. And wings. And a couple orders of breadsticks. He’d put his foot down on also ordering Thai food.

“You’re just gonna puke it up in the morning!” he’d warned as they stuffed their faces. 2D sent him a goofy, if not a bit cheesy, smile.

“S’alright Rus, we’ll have leftovers!” Murdoc nodded enthusiastically, his fringe flopping unevenly. Russel had just sighed and grabbed his own slices, sitting down in front of the TV. 2D glanced at the screen and could make out some sort of cooking show. Boring.

“Shouldn’t you be taking it easy on the drugs and shit Murdoc?” Russel asked. Murdoc moaned into his beer.

“Who are ya, my mother?!” he snapped. 2D giggled.

“Yer mum was a crack-head Muds!” he chirped, successfully dodging a slap.

“Oi you—”

“Can you two shut up for five minutes?” Russel shouted from the couch. “And I didn’t even think you had a mother Murdoc. I always figured you crawled out of some cave.”

“OI!” Murdoc shrieked as 2D laughed. Stu wrapped an arm around the bassist's shoulder and a kind of half-hug.

“Calm down, Muds, calm down. We’re only jokin’” Murdoc grumbled to himself but didn’t move to hit anyone else, so 2D figured he’d calmed him down enough. He was surprised the other didn’t shrug him off right away, but chalked it up to the narcotics, alcohol, and weed in both their systems.

At least, he could have done, if he hadn’t noticed Murdoc acting so differently since the accident. Up until yesterday he’d seen the bassist once a day, maximum, and he certainly wouldn’t have gotten away giving him a hug. That could be chalked up to the situation being so stressful, but he’d also noticed how Murdoc had been looking at him in the bedroom and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d caught the other looking at him like that over the years. People thought 2D was blind and dumb, when really, his vision was just fine and his brain only ¾ scrambled. Murdoc never tried to hide his attractions to people, and could occasionally be caught leering at 2D’s arse, or winking flirtatiously. But he’d never made a move and neither had 2D, too afraid that he’d been reading the signals wrong. Or that Murdoc would just use him for sex and keep treating him like shit. And that wasn’t even taking how 2D felt about the whole situation.

“Well I’m not goin’ to sit around and be insulted like this!”  Murdoc leapt up from the table unsteadily. He made a quick pit stop at the fridge for more beer and walked, head held high, from the kitchen. 2D giggled to himself the whole time.

“Aw Murdoc come-on, it’s jus’ a joke!” But Murdoc was already gone. 2D decided to leave him be for a while, and instead sat down on the couch near Rus’s chair to watch TV.

Gordon Ramsay was on the TV making some sort of Christmas dinner set-up, which was odd seeing as it was late spring, but 2D figured someone somewhere must have a need for a turkey dinner. Russel was focused in on the screen, taking mental notes.

“Thinkin’ of making a turkey Rus?” he asked. Russel shrugged.

“No, but the episode after this is supposed to be on Japanese cuisine and I thought maybe I’d get some ideas for what to make for Noodle when she wakes up. Comfort food, you know?” 2D sobered a little the reminder of where their youngest member was.

“Oh, yeah, thas’ a good idea Rus, maybe I should help ya when the time comes…” Russel snorted.

“No offence D, but you almost cut off your finger cutting tomatoes yesterday, I’m not sure if you should be helpin’ me with complicated stuff like sushi.” Stu wasn’t offended really. Cooking hadn’t even been his strong point, even before his second major head injury.

“Fair ‘nuff, I’ll have ta think of sumthin’ else. Maybe a song or sumthin’.” Russel nodded, distracted by the TV.

2D was getting bored fast, so he pulled out his phone to have a bit of fun on social media. He saw a lot of the same stuff as usual, fans sending their love, haters sending hate. A lot of it seemed to be directed at Murdoc, which wasn’t unusual, so 2D ignored it as he often did. He caught up on his favourite music news, sent out a few vague tweets, most of which were nearly gibberish as he was still quite sloshed, and replied to text messages from his mum and dad asking about the situation.

“D’you think it’s a good idea, leavin’ Muds on his own up there?” Russel asked, casting a wary eye back at the stairs. “You were supposed to be keepin’ him from going to hard on the drugs and stuff.”

2D gave a half shrug. “He came ta my room already pretty drunk ta cheer me up.” Nose scrunched in distaste, 2D remembered his black mood. “Sorry for yellin’ at ya earlier too Rus, I just… I dunno man. But I’m sorry.”

Russel put a comforting hand on his shoulder, turning from the TV to look at the singer. “It’s fine D, I get we’re all out of sorts right now. I knew you didn’t mean it. Murdoc was pretty pissed with me too for asking about his overdose.”

“Yeah, he got mad at my for tellin’ you about that…” Russel shot him a worried look. “Not like that, he didn’t hit me or nothin’. Jus’ shouted a bit, told me not ta do it again.”

“Good, maybe he’d finally gettin’ a hold on that temper of his,” Russ mused, before turning back to the TV, pulled in by the narrator explaining the right way to cook rice.

“Yeah…. Maybe,” 2D agreed before zoning out again. Without Noodle around to get the group together, there wasn’t really much to do. He could drive himself places, but where would he go on his own? Russ was a bit of a home-body, and it was a crapshoot whether Murdoc would want to go out with him, so what could he do on his own? Not to mention he was still riding his buzz pretty hard. He’d never really noticed how much Noodle keep them all together as a family instead of just mates who shared a house and made music.

* * *

Blackout drunk was the goal tonight. He could barely even taste the beer as he drank bottle after bottle. A passing thought of filching some more pills from 2D’s room crossed his mind, but he decided against it. He was going for unconscious not dead this time.

Though really, what difference did it make? The idea of an unending nothing was sounding better and better every day. Noodle was going to hate him, Russel too, once he found out it was Murdoc’s fault she was in the hospital. And 2D, well he’d sure that the truce they seemed to have going would end at some point. Probably because of Murdoc, cocking it up as usual.

So why keep going? Even the drugs couldn’t dull the constant anxiety and dread he felt, even before the accident. Sleeping and eating had become more of an optional hobby than life-necessities outside of the night before. And, most telling, even making music seemed impossible. Even when he’d been living with his father and dealing with all that entailed he’d still loved music, but now it held little joy.

 _You’ve got to prove them all wrong, make something of yourself,_ A voice in the back of his head murmured. That was the thought that kept him going in dark times before, but he’d done all that, hadn’t he? Murdoc Niccals was a well-known rockstar who had money, women, and fame. What was he supposed to do now that he had it all, and it was falling apart?

“S’probably my punishment fer sellin’ my soul,” he slurred. “I got everythin’ I asked fer an’ now m’gonna lose it all.”

That would be just typical, wouldn’t it. Life had never given Murdoc anything that it hadn’t taken back away and anything he’d taken for himself ended up going to shit. He could lie to himself all he wanted his confident asshole routine; really he was still the scared little kid living under the thumb of his father in a decaying counsel-flat in Stoke-on-Trent.

It wasn’t clear if it was the stress, beer, or pills, but Murdoc suddenly found himself on the edge of crying. Everything was piling up on top of him and crushing any sense of happiness he’d been clinging to over the years. He was losing his family, his band, and his livelihood and he couldn’t find the will to stop it. He was a coward, a disgusting, opportunistic coward. A pitiful noise escaped him and he reached for another bottle of beer, finding the pack empty.

Like a damn under stress, great heaving sobs broke through his clenched teeth. His eyes stung with salty tears and he batted at them with shaky hands. Years worth of feelings gushed out overwhelming and terrifying. Murdoc hated feeling out of control, and the whole situation was one of the most out of control thing’s he’d ever really experienced. It felt like he’d never stop, like he’d cry himself to death.

Desperately, Murdoc sank his sharp front teeth into his right forearm; anything to stop the onslaught of emotional pain. It hurt something fierce, but it took the edge off a little. He screamed in frustration, and that helped a little too.

A quiet sound startled him out of his misery, and he leaned over the bedside to investigate. Sitting there, staring up at him was Katsu, Noodle’s cat. Murdoc normally ignored the cat, and in turn the cat ignored him, preferring to hang out with Noodle or Russel. 2D loved Katsu, but often stepped on his tail by accident, or woke him up during a cat nap, so Katsu tended to avoid the singer.

“Wha’ are ya doin’ in ‘ere?” Murdoc asked. His voice was slurred and rough with tears, but Katsu didn’t mind. The cat meowed again and jumped up on the bed, another surprise, and butted its head against Murdoc’s nose. The cat smelled a little like Noodle’s favourite perfume. Murdoc’s breathing hitched with fresh tears. He raised a hand gently and laid it on the cats back, surprised to feel it purring.

“You miss yer mama, don’cha,” he said. The cat meeped quietly and laid down beside him, it’s warm little body resting right by his heart. “I do too, lil’ lad. I do too.”

The beer bottle he’d been nursing was nearly empty, but if he wanted to get a refill he’d have to move the cat. So instead he got comfortable, at least as comfortable as he could get without moving too much. He wanted to be angry that Noodle’s dumb cat was stopping him from reaching his goal of blackout drunk, but the small warm heat and relaxing purring coming from the little fluff ball was too much to resist. With the grace of someone already way, _way_ too drunk, Murdoc passed out, face pressed against the furry body in his arms, falling into a deep sleep.

* * *

2D woke up stiff and groggy, laid out on the sofa in the living room. Though not an extremely uncommon occurrence, it took him a few seconds in his sleep-bleary state to figure out why he wasn’t in his bedroom. Bits a pieces of the day before came back to him, breakfast, drinking, and watching TV with Russ, which was when he must have fallen asleep on the couch. Unfortunately, Murdoc had found this couch on the side of the road, and as such it wasn’t the most comfortable, or sanitary thing in the world.

“Ow my ‘ead,” Stu groaned. He noticed a glass of water and his painkillers on the table, and made a mental note --which he’d probably forget-- to thank Russel.

His phone said it was early afternoon. The house was quiet and 2D didn’t smell any breakfast being cooked, so either Russ was still asleep--unlikely-- or he’d made breakfast early and Stu had missed out.

“Guess I’m on my own then.” He could manage some toast, like he used to do before work. With entirely too much grunting he hoisted himself up from the sofa and shuffled into the kitchen. It was cleaner than yesterday, probably thanks to Russel being around, so it wasn’t had to find the bread and jam. The toaster wasn’t set up beside a bowl of ears either, which 2D counted as a major plus. In no time, he had a perfectly serviceable breakfast including a big mug of tea.

Quietly making his way through breakfast, Stu tried to plan out his day. He wasn’t allowed to go visit Noodle so that wasn’t an option, and he didn’t really feel like doing anything else while one of his best friends was in the hospital. Maybe he should use all these feelings to write a song, but music reminded him of how sick Noodle was, and really he just wanted to forget about that for a little while.

He could always hang out with Russel of Murdoc. Speaking of, his bandmates were either being very quiet, or out judging by the near silence of the house. Russel was a morning person, and now that he was a normal size, 2D figured he had lots of stuff he wanted to do. Murdoc was most likely still in bed, especially if he’d kept drinking after he’d gone upstairs.

It struck him just how _normal_ a morning it was for the band, save for Noodle not being around. It didn’t feel right for him to be munching away at toast and jam, enjoying a good cuppa, having a pleasant morning while Noodle…

He didn’t want to think about it. Instead he popped a few more painkillers, telling himself he was getting ahead of the headache that he just _knew_ was going to show up any minute now. The bottle was feeling pretty light, probably due to all the stress he’d been going through recently. Not to mention he remembered something about Murdoc raiding his nightstand last night.

“Bloody leech, always takin’ my pills,” he grumbled. As if summoned by his complaints, Murdoc lurched unevenly into the kitchen, followed closely by Katsu.

“Whatcha on about, prick,” Murdoc rasped, taking a seat at the table. Katsu jumped into his lap and settled comfortably, and 2D raised an eyebrow as Murdoc began to give the cat a through scratch behind the ears.

“Nothin’ Muds, you want some tea?” Murdoc nodded jerkily. 2D set the kettle and leaned against the counter. Murdoc looked rough, even worse than normal. He was blotchy and pale with large bags under each eye. Stu wondered if he should say something, but hadn't the foggiest what he should say.

“What are you starin’ at, Faceache?”  Murdoc asked, sending 2D a dangerous glare. 2D jumped and busied himself making the tea.

“N-nothin’ Murdoc! Jus’ thought you looked a lil’, eh, a lil’...”

“A lil’s _what_ Stu?” Murdoc growled. 2D stuttered and tried to fix the tea without spilling any, his shaky hands clattering the cups and spoons together with a cacophonous racket.

“N-n-never mind, I didn’t say nothin’.” He sat down again, eyes fixed to the table. Why did Murdoc always have to be so nasty? He never knew if the man was going to fly off the handle or laugh along.

Murdoc scoffed and took his tea. “Where’s fat-arse this morning?”

“Oh, I dunno. He wasn’t around when I woke up,” 2D answered. Murdoc grunted and continued to pet the cat on his lap. 2D reached out to give Katsu a pet, but got a low growl in warning.

“Don’t bug ‘im D,” Murdoc warned. 2D drew his hand back and pouted.

“Why’s he sittin’ with you anyway? Though you didn’t like cats.” Murdoc didn’t answer. Stu sighed and decided to clean up his breakfast mess instead.

Just as he was finishing up, Murdoc broke the silence. “You got any pain pills on you dullard? I’ve got one hell of a headache.” 2D reached into his pocket and tossed the bottle over.

“Don’t take too many Muds, I’m runnin out,” he warned. Murdoc scoffed.

“What do you mean you’re runnin’ out, you’ve got half a bloody pharmacy in your bedroom.” 2D, turned to the bassist, a frown on his face.

“Yeah but these ones work best for my migraines and you’re gobblin’ them up like candy,” he complained. Murdoc waved him off, jostling Katsu and making him jump off his lap with a put-out meow.

“Quit complainin’, I’ll write you a prescription for more or somthin’,” 2D watched him dash out a single pill and wash it down with tea. “Here, left you some.”

"Thanks.” 2D rolled his eyes. Murdoc handed the bottle back.

“Don’t mention it Stu, don’t mention it.” Unsure if there was anything more to say, 2D sighed and decided he’d rather spend the rest of the day alone in his bedroom. Maybe he’d force himself to sit at his piano for a few hours until something musical came out. He made it halfway out the door before Murdoc noticed and rounded on him.

‘Where are you going?” he asked, sounding put-out. 2D stopped in his tracks and turned to face the older man.

“Jus’ to my bedroom, m’gonna write some stuff, maybe sleep.” He hoped Murdoc didn’t want to join him. Not that the man hadn’t been a little more tolerable the last few days, but he just needed some space and time alone.

“Oh, yeah, ok mate,” Murdoc said, turning back to the table. 2D hesitated a few seconds before sighing for what felt like the hundredth time. Was it selfish of him to leave Murdoc sitting here alone when he was obviously feeling like shit? A familiar feeling of guilt crept into 2D’s stomach, sitting uneasily beside the toast and jam.

“Uh, if you want you can uh, you can join me?” he offered. Murdoc noticeably perked up, but tried to hide it by stretching dramatically.

“Sure mate, sounds good. Lead on then.” 2D slowly made his way up the stairs, wary of Murdoc behind him. It wasn’t uncommon for the bassit to trip him, or make him stumble on the stairs. This time though, they both made it up without incident. They walked the hall of bedrooms, past Noodle’s room, and Murdoc’s. The room they’d left empty for Russel was quiet; the drummer must have gone out. 2D’s room was the last on the right, and they both filed into Stu’s room.

Sitting at the piano tiredly, 2D stared down at the keys. He heard Murdoc take a seat on his bed, the second-hand mattress squeaking under his weight. A lot of the time, 2D wrote music like he did everything else, randomly and stream-of-consciousness style. Right now though, all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep the day away. His brain felt tired, and he felt a little wrung out, which could be a side effect of the pills he’d taken earlier.

“So… what were you writin’ then?” Murdoc asked. 2D picked some random papers up off the bench beside him and passed them over. Most of it was just random scribbles of lyrics and notes with no cohesive pattern. Murdoc flipped through them, making the occasional sound of agreement of disgust, before handing the pile back.

"Most of that is right shit mate, that page about the fire files or whatever was good,” he said. 2D nodded, but didn’t respond, still staring at the keys. He had no tune to go along with the words, and nothing was coming to him. Murdoc shuffled around behind him and took a seat on the bench at the lower end of the keyboard.

“You mind if I…?” Murdoc gestured to the keys. 2D shrugged and the bassist plunked out a simple tune. The piano wasn’t Murdoc’s instrument, but like a lot of musicians, he knew his way around it well enough. 2D listened along to the weird, halting string of notes his friend laid out, and quickly began to join in with lyrics.

Murdoc smirked a little and shuffled closer to Stu to reach the higher octaves. 2D gave him a small smile back, the musical collaboration lifting his soul in the way only music could. Murdoc always seemed to know just the right tune or tweek to take a song from average to amazing, and 2D couldn’t help but be pulled into his spell. Even with just the keyboard and Stu singing it sounded like a real, fleshed out song.

As they reached the end of lyric 2D had written they both trailed off. 2D smiled, eyes closed. He felt lighter than he had just an hour ago, sitting in the kitchen, like some weight had been lifted off of him. He opened his eyes to see Murdoc staring back at him with a pleased expression.

“That was pretty good Stu-Pot,” he said, the rarely-used nickname warming 2D’s heart even more. With a blush he looked away, suddenly a little embarrassed.

“Thanks Muds, dunno when it’ll be finished though,” he answered. Murdoc shrugged, still turned towards him.

“Don’t rush it mate, there’s always next album,” Murdoc assured him, strangely supportive. 2D nodded in agreement. “S’a pretty ‘emo’ song, as the kids call it, isn’t it?”

2D looked down at the lyrics in his hands. “I guess. I was thinkin’ about people and findin’ myself. It was nighttime an’ I was out on the balcony and I saw a couple of fire files an’ I jus wrote down what I was feelin’.”

“Mmmm,” Murdoc hummed. 2D noticed that Murdoc had taken his hands off the keys, laying one in his lap and the other between them, close to 2D’s thigh. Looking up he immediately locked eyes with the bassist, and he gulped. Murdoc was looking at him like he looked at his bass, like he was something important and precious, and 2D felt his mouth go dry. The familiar echo of want fluttered through him, as did the old anxieties that always coupled those feelings.

He watched, almost transfixed, as Murdoc leaned in, the hand between them coming up to his arm, the other landing on his knee. Sitting down he was a few inches taller than the other man, so Murdoc had to lean up to gently, so gently, touch their lips together. When 2D didn’t immediately pull away Murdoc moved in, pressing his front firmly against the singer's side, hands moving upwards to cup behind his neck.

2D’s mind was going a mile a minute, which for him was a very distressing thing in its own right. 15-20 years ago he would have given anything for this to happen, Murdoc was his idol back then. But then he’d gotten to really know the man and those naive feelings had been tainted with poor treatment and abuse.

But Murdoc was being so gentle now, not to mention how he’d held him the other morning. His lips were rough and his face was stubbly. 2D could taste some combination of liquor and smoke on the bassist even through such a chaste kiss, and it struck him as such a _Murdoc_ taste. Why now, he wondered, what had changed?

Slowly Murdoc pulled back hands loosening and falling back down. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but 2D followed him, connecting their lips again in a less chaste, more needy kiss. A surprised noise greeted him, the bassist obviously not expecting 2D to really reciprocate, but the surprise was short lived. Hands wound into hair and around waists as both men became more and more wrapped up in each other. The lyrics 2D had been holding fluttered to the bedroom floor, forgotten as they came together, finally.


	6. A Couple of Birds

If he was being honest, Murdoc had no idea what to do in this situation. 

They’d been making music, a pretty common activity between bandmates, but then something changed. 2D had been singing and Murdoc playing piano when he’d looked over and saw the singer looking so so so…

Well, Murdoc hadn’t been able to resist after he’d seen him, anyway.

He hadn’t really planned to kiss the other man, but it had happened and now they were snogging like horny teenagers on the singer’s piano bench. At some point, he’d clambered over the singer’s legs straddled his lap. 2D had a good, hard grip on Murdoc’s hair and wasn’t shy about tugging it whenever the bassist bit too hard at his lips. Murdoc found himself getting a little carried away with each sharp tug.

Suddenly 2D let go of his hair and grasped his hips. Murdoc groaned in frustration, missing the sensation of long pianist’s fingers in his greasy hair. But then 2D used his strong grip to pull Murdoc closer, grinding harshly against his dick. Murdoc’s groan quickly became a moan of pleasure.

“Ah, Stu—” Murdoc panted. Satan it had been  _ so long _ since he’d gotten any and the feeling of another person so close, so  _ willing _ was driving him crazy. He was grinding against Stu all on his own now, chasing his orgasm, and judging by how 2D was devouring his mouth, the other was feeling it as well. 

Without warning, 2D pulled back and pushed at Murdoc’s hips. Murdoc ignored his directions and nuzzled into the singer's neck instead, working on a set of impressive hickies. “Muds—ah— ge’ off'a me for a sec’.” Murdoc responded by nipping at the younger's ear, making him shiver. 

“Murdoc—bed,” Stu ground out, and now they were getting somewhere. Murdoc sprung up enthusiastically crossing the bedroom to lay back on 2D’s single bed in just seconds. Stu wasn’t far behind, though he spared a moment to shed his shirt along the way. Murdoc watched hungrily as the other clambered up onto the bed on top of him. For the first time, Murdoc really noticed how much taller the other man was as he leaned down and engulfed the smaller completely. 

They were back to kissing in seconds, soft wet sounds and groans passing between each other. Stu tugged at Murdoc's shirt and the bassist let him strip it off with little argument, dying to feel skin on skin. He reached out and tugged Stu down, one hand raking over his back, the other roaming over his ass. 2D didn’t back down either, and he smirked against Murdoc’s skin as he kissed and sucked at his neck, moaning right against his ear with each pass of sharp nails. 

“Oh fuck, Murdoc,” Stu whined. Murdoc laughed and slipped his hands underneath his jeans and pants, gripping that  _ lovely _ arse which Murdoc couldn’t deny admiring from time to time. He stroked and grabbed, rewarding each of 2D’s bites with a good hard squeeze. Soon they were rutting against each other again, but Murdoc was getting impatient.

“Get your pants off,” he commanded gruffly. 2D nodded against his neck and sat back on his knees. From this angle Murdoc got a  _ very _ nice view of Stu opening his belt and wiggling his jeans and pants down, exposing his dick. The bassist licked his lips lewdly with his famously snake-like tongue as 2D blushed and kicked his clothes aside. 

“You too,” 2D said, snaking down so his face was level with the bulge in Murdoc’s pants. The older man out up on his elbows to better watch his singer yank down the pyjama pants Murdoc was wearing. Stu didn’t seem surprised at the lack of underthings—he’d known Murdoc long enough—and instead, he nuzzled at the bassist cock, looking right into his eyes. 

“Fuck D,” Murdoc muttered. The other man smirked and, without warning, swallowed his dick down to the base. “Fuck!”

2D chuckled, and that only made Murdoc groan more. With practised ease 2D works him mercilessly, and Murdoc wonders just how many times he’s done this with other guys. That thought doesn’t last long as he feels his orgasm barreling forwards. It’s been too long, he can’t hold on.

“D—ah D I’m—oh shit!” he squirmed and 2D grabbed his hips with a strong grip, pinning him. 2D also redoubled his efforts to make Murdoc come. He looked up at Murdoc with big, doe eyes, and sucked  _ hard _ . Murdoc felt like the younger was sucking his brain out through his prick, and he desperately grabbed onto the other’s hair, along for the ride and not much else. 

“Stu I’m gonna c-c—” Sudden, overwhelming pleasure overtook him before he could warn his partner, but 2D didn’t seem to care. Murdoc moaned, embarrassingly high and desperate as he came, thrusting erratically into Stu’s mouth. He felt like it went on forever, the long months of only his hand not being comparable to the warm, wet mouth of his bandmate. 

Finally, boneless and panting, he came down from his high to look down at 2D. If he could have gotten hard again so fast he would have because 2D looked  _ debauched _ . His lips were a little swollen, his eyes teary. He’d made a good attempt to swallow all of Murdoc’s come, but it had obviously been too much as it was dripping down his chin. Noticing Murdoc staring at him he smiled sweetly and wiped his mouth off on the bedsheets. 

“H-holy shit, D,” Murdoc moaned, letting his head fall back against the pillows. 2D laughed quietly as he slunk up the bed to be face-to-face with Murdoc. He laid on his back, slowly stroking his own cock.

“Good?” he asked. Murdoc nodded mutely, his brain still catching up with the rest of the world. He focused in on the hand pumping between 2D’s legs. His cock was… pretty? Murdoc had seen a good number of dicks in his days and 2D’s was somewhere on the nicer end; not too big, not too small; nicely trimmed—strangely blue—pubic hair. And most importantly, it was hard and within Murdoc’s grasp. So he went for it.

Reaching down Murdoc swatted away 2D’s hand and replaced it with his own. The taller man groaned quietly, his hips twitching. Murdoc pumped slow and steady, gaging his singer’s reactions, and admiring the soft curve of his mouth. He’d always said the singer was a pretty-boy, the face and voice of the band, but he hadn’t really understood what all their screaming fans had been so crazy about until that moment. 

“H-harder Murdoc,” 2D demanded. Murdoc could only comply, jerking off the singer with a grip and pace that could only be described as brutal. 2D loved it though, and Murdoc loved the reactions he was getting, so he decided to step it up a notch. Leaning into 2D’s neck he gave a few, cursory kisses before biting down  _ hard _ . The singer screamed in ecstasy, his hips bucking wildly, hands gripping Murdoc’s hair and holding him close. 

“Murdoc!” Murdoc answered with another bite and a cruel laugh. He loved the feeling of the younger coming apart in his hands, he was just so  _ responsive. _

“Come on, luv, you gonna come for me?” he whispered in the other’s ear. 2D whimpered and nodded turning his head away to give Murdoc better access to his neck. “Oh,  _ naughty boy.”  _ Murdo complied with the silent plea and bit again, tipping Stu over the edge. With a long, drawn-out moan 2D came into the bassist calloused hands. Murdoc stroked him through it, placing sloppy kisses on his neck and chest as he came down. 

When 2D finished Murdoc followed his example and wiped his hands clean on the bedspread. With the dead done, so to speak, he realized that the other was probably going to want to  _ talk _ about this. There was nothing that ruined a good post-fuck afterglow more than a  _ talk _ . Murdoc steeled himself for a long and complicated discussion, but instead he heard a soft snoring somewhere near his left ear. Glancing over at his bed partner he saw 2D, fast asleep and drooling.

Feeling a little put-out, Murdoc rolled himself off the bed. Slipping on his pajamas, which 2D had bunched up at the foot of the bed, he spared a glance back at the sleeping singer before quietly slipping out of the room. He needed a shower, badly.

2D’s room was right next to the bathroom. Murdoc padded inside and locked the door behind him. The last time he’d been in here, he’d been blasted out of his mind, laid out on the floor and sobbing like a pathetic child. But he didn’t want to think about that now, he didn’t want to think about Noodle or the band or  _ anything _ . So he turned to the shower, cranked the water to boiling, and stepped in.

The hot water helped wash away the feeling of hands all over his body,  _ 2D’s hands.  _ The feeling of being held close to another body, of being  _ wanted _ , even just for sex, all down the drain. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed it, hadn’t loved every second. But that was because it’d been so long, so long without a bird or a bloke, and 2D was there and willing and—

“Shit!” This fucked up everything, didn’t it? Rule number one of being in a band was  _ don’t fuck your bandmates. _ And what had he gone and done? All because of that stupid bloody song, and the way Stu had looked while singing it. How he’d looked like he was 19 again singing in the Camden Brownhouse, like music was the answer to everything. Murdoc  _ had _ to kiss him then, just to try and take a little of that feeling for himself. 

“ Fuck!” He felt at least two of his fingers bruise against the tile as he lashed out . That fleeting feeling of happiness, it’d been so sweet. A delicious moment where nothing hurt and everything narrowed down to two people, together. He didn’t deserve that happiness or that peace.  

The water began to run cold—the water heater was a piece of shit—so he turned it off and got out, dripping wet and scalded. Even though he hadn’t bothered to lather up he felt cleaner. He dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist, looking in the mirror. 2D had left him a wicked necklace of hickies; he’d have to pull out some turtlenecks.

Feeling more like himself—that is, more depressed and self-loathing—he opened the bathroom door, filling the hallway with steam. He was about to step out and trudge back to his bedroom when he bumped into a large figure blocking the doorway. 

“Jesus Christ Muds, turn on the fan next time, we’re gonna get mould.” Murdoc screamed shrilly and jumped back into the bathroom, slipping on the wet tile and falling against the shower wall. Russel stepped through the steam with crossed arms and scowl. “What the hell man?”

“Russ!” Embarrassment roiled deep in his gut. Getting up and adjusting his towel Murdoc tried to appear calm and collected in front of his drummer. He failed spectacularly. “You startled me mate.”

“No kidding. What happened to your neck man?” Russel asked. Murdoc’s hand flew up to his collar self-consciously. 

“Uh nothing mate, just an overzealous bird, ya know?” His room was just behind Russel, he just wanted to be alone. 

“But you were home last night.” Satan why couldn’t Russ just mind his own business? Murdoc pushed past him into the hallway. Nearly home-free. “Murdoc wait!” He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it heavily. Satan, he needed a drink.

* * *

 

After his run-in with Murdoc in the hall, Russel decided that the best course of action was to leave the man alone. If there was one thing he’d learned during his time in Gorillaz—there was way more than one, but this one was important—it was when to press Murdoc, and when to back the fuck off. 

He could hear 2D snoring from the bedroom, so he decided to leave him be. He’d been asleep on the couch in an interesting position when Russel had gone out, but he probably needed the rest. That left Russel on his own, which was fine, he was used to it. He could use the time to catch up on some reading, clean the kitchen, maybe even pick up his taxidermy again. 

He should probably call the hospital too, they’d promised to call every day with an update on Noodle, and they hadn’t yesterday. Yeah, that was first on the list. After that, he’d figure out what to do.

Sitting in his own room, Russ dialled the number the hospital had given him and settled in to wade through the innumerable phone tree options.

“Hello, and thank you for calling London Bridge Hospital, for service in English, press 1.”

“For patient enquiry, press 2..”

“If you know the name of the person you are trying to reach, please press 3…”

It took a good ten minutes, but eventually, he got to the ICU desk. “Hello, London Bridge Hospital ICU, how may I help you?”

“Uh, yeah, My name’s Russel Hobbs, and I was waiting for a call about a Noodle Niccals?” he said. The nurse on the other end put him on hold for another ten minutes before a different voice answered

“This is Doctor Cavenaugh speaking, is this Mr. Hobbs?” she asked. Her voice was clipped and fast, exactly the kind of voice you’d expect an important doctor would have. 

“Just Russel is good, and yeah. I wanted to know how Noodle’s doin’,” he said. There was a brief pause and the sound of rustling papers. 

“Oh yes, I have her file right here. I’m sorry that I haven’t contacted you sooner, you understand how busy the ICU is,” she explained. Russel wanted to be mad, but he did understand, at least a little. 

“It’s fine. How’s she doin’?” he asked. Again there was a pause and the sound of more paper. 

“It doesn’t seem like there have been any major changes since your visit a few days ago. That’s a good sign, Mr. Hobbs.” Russel sighed in relief.

“Ok, that’s good, that’s good. What about visitors? My friends weren’t too happy about not bein’ able to visit.”

The doctor paused again. “Unfortunately sir at this time it’s for the best things are kept as quiet as possible around Miss. Niccals.” Russel flinched a little; he knew they should have gone with his name. 

“Alright, alright, I understand. Let me know if anything changes, yeah?” The doctor agreed and they hung up. Russel sighed.

“D’s not gonna be happy.”  He hated being the bearer of bad news, and that was all he seemed to be doing right now. 

That had always been his thing. Russel was the strong one, the reliable one, and he felt like he was letting everyone down right now. He knew it was stupid, that it was out of his control but… if he’d been there to keep the peace between Murdoc and 2D, or if he’d been there to stop Noodle from being dangerously close to the other cars. He could have stopped all of this from happening. 

But he wasn’t there and Noodle was in bad shape, 2D was all over the place, and Murdoc was looking even worse than normal. He needed to keep it together for them so that when this all sorted itself out they’d still be a family. Russel knew better than anyone how delicate the threads were that kept them all together. Hell, last time Noodle hadn’t been around they split up for good and Murdoc went bat-shit crazy. So this time he needed to keep his cool and keep them together, for Noodle’s sake. 

Knowing that his bandmates wouldn’t appreciate being woken up by drumming, he settled for TV. He settled down onto the sofa—they really needed a new one—and lost a couple hours to the Home Network. Maybe he’d redo one of the rooms in the house, as a surprise for when Noodle came home. There was a thought.

A few hours later he heard someone coming down the steps. Judging by how the last few were a jumble of bumping and stomping—like someone had fallen down—it was probably 2D.

“Is that you D?” he asked, turning away from a fascinating special on flower arranging. A moaning grumble answered him. 

“Yeah, s’me Russ,” 2D answered. “When’d you get back?”

“A few hours ago, I could hear you snorin’ from the hall so I didn’t bug ya,” Russel explained. 2D nodded and wandered into the kitchen, but not before he saw the younger man’s neck. “Did you go out with Murdoc last night?”

Russel heard a glass shattering and a muttered curse. “Uh, n-no? Why do you ask?” Russel stood to help. 

“Well, both of ya look like you had fun with’a couple’a birds.” He pointed to 2D’s neck and the man blushed. 

“O-oh! Y-yeah we did go out and pull some birds. S-sorry Russ, I must be still half asleep,” 2D stuttered. Just like with Murdoc Russel decided to drop it. Whatever as going on there he didn’t want to know.

“OK, sure D.” He helped pick up the shattered glass before 2D could do himself harm. “I called the hospital; there’s been no change with Noodle, but they say that’s a good thing.”

2D nodded silently and went back to the cupboard for another cup. “Thanks for lettin’ me know Russ, I’ll tell M-Murdoc when I see him.”

Russel shrugged and went back to the TV. He really,  _ really _ didn’t want to get involved in those two’s relationship. In the past, he’d stepped in when 2D was going to get his ass kicked, or if Murdoc was going to go too far, but in general he subscribed to the ‘live and let live’ philosophy. Noodle was more the one to get involved, and Russel was the backup. And that was fine, it was how he liked it. But now while Noodle is sick, he might have to get a little more involved, and he dreaded the eventual nuclear meltdown. 


	7. Beg

_ Dark. Dark dark dark and so  _ loud _ it hurt. Where was she, she’d been, she’d… 2D! 2D was there and and and-- _

_ Ice cream? _

_ There had been ice cream, but there wasn’t any now.  _ _ Instead, there was… copper? Iron? Something metallic and a beeping that just kept going. Where was she? She couldn’t move, or she could but her body couldn’t and if she could just open her  _ eyes _ then she’d know where she was. If she could just…open… _

* * *

 

It was a few days before Murdoc and 2D crossed paths again. Stu assumed the older was avoiding him, holed up drunk and high which, to be fair, was what 2D was doing as well. 

How the hell do you face your bandmate, your  _ best mate _ , after sucking their dick? And having them whack you off, really,  _ really _ well. Like, so well that the past two nights you hadn't been able to sleep because you're thinking about his hands—

It was a bad situation.

2D wasn't even sure how it had happened. Murdoc had kissed him, he'd kissed back and then things had just gotten away from him. Old feelings and fantasies from his early 20’s took over and the next thing he knew he was having one of the best orgasms of his life! So good, in fact, he must have passed out after because when he woke up, Murdoc had been gone.

What was he supposed to think about that? 2D chewed at his nails as he stared at the wall opposite his bed. He was running low on pills and he could feel a major headache brewing behind his eyes. Why had Murdoc had to go and kiss him and fuck everything up?

Years ago this would have been a dream. Stu had always found Murdoc attractive, in his own way, and would have jumped at the chance of a good shag. But now they had a history, they had Plastic Beach and 2D didn't think he felt anything for Murdoc except fear, anger, and a bit of family duty. Cause it was sick, wasn't it, wanting someone who'd been so horrible? Someone you knew was a horrible person?

Maybe it was a comfort thing. He thought maybe he'd heard about that on the telly once. When people get stressed they look for relief and what's better for stress relief than sex? So maybe this was normal. Maybe, he should just enjoy it for what it was and stop over thinking.

Running out of nails to bite, 2D decided it was finally time to face the outside world; no more running to the bathroom and back, no more stuffing his face in the middle of the night when the kitchen was empty. Grabbing a clean (ish) shirt and trousers he slowly opened the door, peeking out into the hallway. All clear.

Except, he'd only made it past the bathroom when Murdoc's bedroom door slammed and the bassist stormed out. Both men froze in their tracks as thier eyes met. Stu knew he probably looked pretty gross—days of angsting in your bedroom would do that—and so did Murdoc.

“Uh, hey,” Murdoc greeted, breaking eye contact. 2D continued to stare.

“H-hey.” God he was so pathetic. They both were.

Murdoc took a long drink from the bottle he'd been holding and 2D watched how his throat bobbed slowly. “Haven't seen you in a while. Thought you might be dead or something.”

“N-no, I'm not dead.” Murdoc laughed cruelly and 2D flinched.

“Obviously, dullard.” For some reason, the nasty name hurt more than I used to. Irritation burned in Stu's throat and he scowled.

“D-dont take your shitty mood out on me Murdoc,” he snapped. Immediately he regretted his actions, backing up slowly, and closing his eyes in anticipation of the other man's anger.

But the hits and yelling didn't come, so he opened his eyes to see Murdoc still standing in front of his door, hands on his hips, posture defeated. 2D didn't know what to make of it.

“Come on, D, don't be like that,” the bassist sighed.

“Like what? Mad that y-you call me shitty names all the time? Pissed that you're taking your feelings out on me? Upset that I woke up and you were—” Murdoc waved his hands wildly, shushing the singer.

“Shhhh! What if Russel hears!” 2D wanted to laugh at the panicked look on Murdoc's face; he was really worried.

“Why should I care if Russel hears! I was j-jus’ another one of your ack—” 2D was cut off by Murdoc grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging him in close. He continued to tug as he popped open the door behind them.

Now inside the dark room, 2D was completely blind. The only thing letting him know Murdoc was even still in front of him was warm, stale breath on his face. As usual, the bedroom was black as pitch, and 2D couldn't help but reach out and place his shaky hands on Murdoc's shoulders to orient himself.

“Satan D, what's your problem?” The bassist asked. The darkness wrapped around them and gave 2D a false sense of courage.

“My problem is  _ you  _ Murdoc. The way you treat me like shit all the time, and then you go and kiss me?  _ What the fuck is going on with you?" _

“Not like you didn't  _ like it, _ ” Murdoc mumbled, but 2D wasn't having it.

“I don't understand, Murdoc. What are we doing?” He wanted an answer, something he could understand, process, and shove to the back of his mind. Instead, he got a sigh and felt the older shrug under his hands.

“I don't know ok, D? I just did it, and  _ you  _ went along with it, quite enthusiastically if I remember right.” 2D felt heat in his cheeks and was glad for the darkness. “I left 'cause you fell asleep and I didn't feel like watchin’ your drool for hours.”

Silence fell between then and 2D sighed, fisting the cloth of Murdoc's shirt shoulders then dropping his hands to his sides. “S'all fucked up.”

Murdoc snorted. “You don't have to tell me, D.”

“So what do we do? Like, I saw on the telly once that sometimes, in stressful situations, this stuff happens but…”

“What 'stuff’ Dents?” Murdoc asked. 2D cleared his throat.

“You know Muds, people get stressed an’ then they end up screwin’ to release stress,” he explained. He wished he could see Murdoc's reaction. When he didn't answer, 2D kept going. “I mean with Noodle sick, I figure we jus’ got a lil’ lost in our heads and made a mistake, yeah mate?”

He felt Murdoc moving closer to him and braced for a slap or something else awful. Instead he felt a hand on his face, stroking. His heart was slamming against his ribs, he had no idea what the bassist was doing. It wouldn't be out of character for him to make 2D think one thing and do another. So he kept still and waited for the other to make his move.

It didn't take long, and just a few seconds later the hand on his face was tipping it downward to meet chapped lips. A lot like a few days ago Murdoc tasted like whiskey and cigarettes and despite himself, 2D relaxed and place his hands at his mate's hips. Murdoc broke the kiss and 2D took the moment to speak up.

“I-is this ok? Jus’ while Noodles in the hospital, for the stress,” he panted as Murdoc drew closer. Murdoc hummed in reply. That was good enough for Stu, who kissed back with vigour. It was just as good as the last time, strangely soft and warm.

Except this time, the softness didn't last. Like a switch clicked, Murdoc was biting and clinging to 2D, clawlike nails biting into the skin of his neck. 2D gave as good as he got, biting at Murdoc just like last time, renewing the hickies that had begun fading. The bassist moaned and 2D smirked.

“You're such a slut Muds, it's barely been three days since and you're already gaggin’ for it.” Murdoc grunted in response and 2D took that as a positive sign. “Bet you've been in here pullin’ yourself off thinkin’ about it.” He didn’t expect a response so he was quite surprised when Murdoc whimpered.

“Y-yeah…” 2D’s smile widened. This was a side to Murdoc he wouldn’t mind seeing more often. Or well, feeling, since it was still completely dark. Towering over him, 2D wound his hands into the bassist's hair, pulling his head back to expose more of his throat. He gave an experimental bite and felt the pleasured tremors run through the other’s body.

“You’re  _ nasty _ Murdoc, but I can see how you get so many people to sleep with you. You make the mos’ beautiful noises,” 2D purred. He was enjoying the power that came with turning Murdoc to putty in his hands. He’d had his suspicions when he’d sucked the other off but now he knew; the bravado and swagger Murdoc cloaked himself in was all an act.

“2D…” Stu answered with another hard bite. He led them backwards, careful not to trip in the gloom until he felt the edges of Murdoc’s bed. Showing a rare moment of grace he spun them around so Murdoc’s back was facing the bed, then he pushed.

“Wha—” In an instant, he was crawling into his lap and regaining control. 2D was skinny, but he wasn’t weak and he had the advantage of long limbs used to pin the bassist down. Not that Murdoc was really fighting it. Maybe it was something to do with the darkness, it gave 2D the courage to take what he wanted, and it gave Murdoc the peace of mind to know he wouldn’t be seen giving in.

“Take off your shirt, and your jeans,” he instructed as he did the same. It wasn’t long before they were back together, skin on skin. Stu wasted no time in moving down Murdoc’s body, marking his collarbones, biting at his ribs. He took a nipple into his mouth and Murdoc arched up into his touch.

“D, oh Satan  _ Stu, _ ” he moaned. Murdoc was a lot more sensitive than he’d ever imagined back when all of this had just been a dream, a fantasy secreted away in his bedroom back at Kong. Never had he imagined having the man at his mercy like this.

“You feel good, Murdoc, really good,” he said toying with the waistband of the bassists pants. “D’you want me to keep goin’?”

“Yeah, D, mate, keep goin’,” Murdoc urged, and 2D did, snaking a hand under the elastic to gently cup Murdoc’s dick.

“So hard already? I’m impressed,” he joked. Murdoc attempted a growl but 2D cut him off with a hard squeeze. He also leaned in close, right against the other’s ear, feeling Murdoc’s greasy hair tickle his face. “Where’s your lube, mate?”

A pause. “Under the pillow,” Murdoc answered and 2D laughed. Trust Murdoc Niccals to always have lube within close reach. He flicked the cap and poured out a generous amount, coating his fingers.

“Ok, take your pants off an’ roll over.” Murdoc made no move to comply and 2D glanced up. His eyes had adjusted to the light as well as they could and form what he could tell, Murdoc was staring up at the ceiling, breathing rapidly. “Murdoc?”

Worried he’d crossed a line, 2D moved up so they were face to face again. This close he could just make out the bassists face. Colour was impossible to make out in the dark, but he was almost sure he could see the fear in his eyes. “Muds?”

He didn’t answer, but he did sit up on his elbows, coming face to face with the singer. 2D reached out to touch his face, but Murdoc slapped his hand away, instead crushing his lips against Stu’s. 2D let him, unsure how to continue but hoped everything was alright. When they pulled apart Murdoc looked him in the eye.

“Bite me again.” 2D raised an eyebrow.

“Mate I don’t—” Murdoc pulled him close.

“Bite me, please,” he whispered desperately. 2D hesitated but decided Murdoc was old enough to make his own decisions. So he leaned in and bite the junction between the bassist's shoulder and neck with enough force to break the skin and Murdoc shuddered. “Yes… again! Harder!” 2D did.

Soon Murdoc was moaning and writhing underneath him again and 2D thought back to that time Murdoc had said something about a Dominatrix. Murdoc liked the pain, got off on it evidently, and it gave 2D a sick thrill to have so much power over him. Taking initiative 2D pushed Murdoc back down and sat up, raking his nails along his partner's chest and stomach as he did. Murdoc loved it.

“Take your pants off,” he tried again. This time Murdoc did, chucking them somewhere into the vastness of his room. He started to roll over too, but 2D stopped him.

“Put your hands above your head an’ keep ‘em there,” he ordered. He slicked his fingers again and shimmied down, keeping eye contact the whole time. He watched for any sign of discomfort and when he saw none he gently trailed his fingers along the cleft of the bassist's ass.

“Ok?” he asked, and Murdoc nodded once, legs kicking in irritation. Stu pressed teeth to his inner thigh and bit as a warning. Murdoc squirmed but settled down.

Finally, he pressed just the very tip of his finger to Murdoc’s entrance. The older man tensed slightly but made no move to stop him, so 2D continued, going slow and watching Murdoc’s every move.  When he got no negative reaction he gained some confidence and pushed further, crooking his finger upwards in a bid to make Murdoc scream.

“Ah—yeah, tha—” Murdoc was babbling, hands still held above his head, but still coherent. 2D wanted to make him fall apart, so he quickly pressed a second finger in, nuzzling against his hard cock as a distraction.

“Oh! Y-yeah, S-Stu! Plea—” 2D bit down again on his thigh, drawing blood. He tried harder to find the spot that would turn Murdoc’s brain to jelly, groping around until finally…

“Oh! Yes! D, Yes! More!” Murdoc screamed, unworried about Russel hearing him now. A wolfish smile stretched over 2D’s face as he did as asked, mercilessly grinding two, then three fingers against that spot. By the time he dubbed the older man adequately stretched, Murdoc was nearly sobbing with each shout.

Pulling his fingers out, despite Murdocs protests, 2D moved back and sat on his knees.

“Get on your belly,” he ordered, and again, Murdoc compiled without a word as 2D shucked off his pants. Instead of turning onto his stomach he pressed up on his hands and knees, looking back over his shoulder and Stu. Even in the dark 2D could see enough to admire the sight of Murdoc, laid out in front of him, horny and wanting. If he hadn’t been hard before—and he had—he would have popped a stiffy at the sight.

“Hurry up!” Murdoc groused. Not wanting to lose the tenuous authority he had, 2D quickly reached out and slapped him on the ass, hard. Murdoc grunted but shut up and 2D got into position. For a fleeting moment he considered asking if Murdoc was ready, but decided against it and pressed into the older man.

“Oh, fuck,” Murdoc swore. 2D echoed his statement with a deep groan of his own. Murdoc was tight and so warm, he felt amazing. “Fuck D.”

“Y-yeah, fuck Murdoc you’re… fuck.” It took every ounce of willpower Stu had to keep still and not start thrusting right away, but he didn’t want to  _ really _ hurt Murdoc. He wasn’t a sadist. To his relief, it didn’t take long until Murdoc was grinding back against him. “God you take dick like a pro.” Murdoc’s shoulders shook with either laughter or pleasure.

“S’cause I am. Y-you—oh shit—you’re getting  _ the _ Murdoc Niccals experience.” Now it was 2D’s turn to laugh as Murdoc tried to speak through his thrusts.

“Well I have ta say, s’a good experience so far.” Stu leaned down against his back, lips whispering against the other’s ear. “How’s the 2D experience t-treatin’ ya?” He punctuated his question with an uneven bite to the shoulder underneath him as Murdoc screamed again through clenched teeth.

“D…” Murdoc whined as his arms gave out and that was a good enough answer for him. He was mechanical, plowing the man below him into the mattress with every pent up feeling he’d ever harboured. It felt so good to be in charge and to be the one in control after everything. He wanted to draw this out, do it again and again until Murdoc was nothing but a gibbering wreck of a man.

“You wanna come, doncha Muds?” Murdoc nodded into the pillow as Stu buggered his brains out. “You gotta ask permission.”

Normally he’d expect Murdoc to get angry and shove him off, but this whole situation was far from normal. “P-please Stu,c-c-can I come?”

He considered saying yes and reaching down, jacking him off and coming inside him. But then this would all be over and he didn’t feel like it should be over yet. “Nah not yet Muds, we aren’t done yet.” Murdoc moaned in frustration.

From there on everything was a blur, 2D picked up the pace, pounding into the other, alternating between biting and clawing at the bassists back and shoulders. He had Murdoc screaming and cursing up a storm just like he wanted, but he could feel his own end approaching. How could he hold out when Murdoc was begging underneath him, writhing and sobbing into the sheets below.

“Beg me to come in you,” 2D growled holding the other in a grip tight enough to bruise. Murdoc shuddered hard.

“Please—oh Satan--please Stu I can’t— _ please,” _ he sobbed. 2D smiled, sweat dripping down his face, and he reached down to finally take a hold of Murdoc's dick. The Satanist moaned in relief.

“Good boy, now come.” That was really pushing it, he was sure Murdoc would scream at him and beat him senseless. Instead, the man under him came with a bone-deep groan of his name, forcing 2D over the edge as well with a few final thrusts.

Laboured breathing filled the silence left by their orgasms. 2D was still pressed against Murdoc’s hips, and when he came back to his senses he pulled out with a hiss and laid on his side. Murdoc was quiet, his face still mashed into the pillows and his hips coming to rest against the bedspread, probably landing in his own come.

Not sure if he was supposed to leave or stay, 2D waffled for a few minutes before leaning up on his elbows. “Uh, d’you—” he cut himself off when he heard an odd sort of sniffling beside him. “Muds?” He could feel the other shaking, hard.

Stu was worried now. “Murdoc, did I hurt you?” he demanded. He could see the other man shake his head into the pillows and internally sighed in relief. He placed a gentle hand on Murdoc’s shoulder, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. It was weird, seeing Murdoc cry like this while sober, and he wasn’t sure what to do.

“What wrong, mate? Did I break you or somethin’?” His response was a wet laugh; a good sign. With a slight push at his shoulder, Stu got Murdoc to roll onto his back. The other man looked thoroughly wrecked and 2D would be sort-of proud if he didn’t also have tears that had nothing to do with pleasure running down his face.

“Talk to me Murdoc,” he urged again. “I mean, we’ve already fucked, what more is there to hide eh?”

Murdoc didn’t laugh this time. “A lot, mate. A lot. Don’t worry about it.”

Was he just supposed to drop it? Wasn’t crying during sex one of those big red flags people talked about. “We’re all stressed out here, I get that. But we gotta talk to each other,” he pushed. Murdoc sighed and turned on his side, facing 2D, knees drawn up. 

“D… it’s not that simple, and it’s not just one thing,” he replied.

“Well then pick one thing we can fix right now, and we’ll deal with the rest later!” Stu chirped. A rough gurgling laugh sputtered out of the bassist and 2D joined in.

“I can give you two, at least mate. First of all, I need a shower  _ badly _ and second,” he paused, looking over the singer slowly, “second thing is I’m  _ starving. _ ”

“Well, we can fix those, easy. Why don’t we get cleaned up a bit, an’ then head down to that diner, the one with all the really ugly flooring, for some food?” It wasn’t a lot, and it definitely had nothing to do with the crying, but it was all he could think of.

Murdoc didn’t answer right away, but he did sit up and throw his legs over the bedside. “Sounds like a plan, Stu-Pot,” he said finally, getting up gingerly and turning on the bedside light. In the brightness, Stu could see the bites and scratches he’d left. “You, eh, gonna join me for that shower?”

2D smiled. “Sure Muds, sounds good.”


	8. Light Pollution

After a quick and only minorly frisky shower, both men were clean and ready to go out for food. Murdoc finally checked his phone on the way to the car and realized it was nearly supper time. He was pretty sure that when he first went to leave his room it was around lunch time so they must have been going at it for a while. 

“I wanna drive, Muds,” 2D said and Murdoc shrugged. 2D cheered and grabbed the keys, hopping into the driver's seat. Murdoc took the passenger side and slumped down in the seat.

2D babbled the entire way to the diner. 2D was always babbling unless he was asleep, and normally Murdoc would snap and tell him to shut up, but right now he couldn’t be bothered. His mind was still back in the bedroom, laid out on the bed feeling like the biggest piece of shit in the world because he doesn’t deserve any of this. The kissing, the sex, the after sex supper. It’s all too good for a scumbag like him.

He hadn’t meant for them to shag again. After the first time he’d drank himself into a stupor so profound he’d blacked out a good portion of two days. Only when his thirst for something other than alcohol reached its limit did he wander out into the hallway where he’d encountered 2D. He hadn’t meant to snap at the singer but something he just couldn’t help it. 2D’s angry reaction had been unexpected though and only served to fuel the self-hatred he felt. Everything the other man had said was true, he did treat him like shit, all the time. Sleeping with him was just another selfish way of taking advantage of the situation.

So when 2D had been sweet to him and had been so focused on making him feel good? He was crying before he could stop himself, only the darkness of the bedroom keeping the singer from knowing. It was unexpected when 2D had stopped, when he had even cared how Murdoc was feeling. Murdoc knew 2D was angry with him, he had every right to be. It’d only be fair to make the bassist suffer for what he’d done. He needed it, they both did.

“We’re here,” 2D said and Murdoc snapped to attention. They were pulled up in front of a shit-hole diner that 2D seemed to love for some reason.

“Fantastic, can’t wait to get food poisoning from some slag waitress who doesn’t wash her hands after taking a slash,” Murdoc griped. 2D ignored him and got out of the car, striding quickly towards the entrance. Murdoc followed.

They took a booth at the far end and the waitress brought them coffee. 2D was pouring over the menu, despite the fact he ordered the same thing every time. Murdoc focused on his coffee, which was shit.

“What’re you gonna order Muds? I know I always get the pancakes but maybe I should try somethin’ different, change things up?”

“Just order something and get on with it D, doesn’t matter what. All the food here is crap.” Murdoc waved a waitress down with an impatient hand. 

“Hello! Welcome to Susan’s Diner, what are you having today?”  She was just a kid, 25 tops. Murdoc sighed and snatched the menu from the younger man.

“Get me more coffee, one of those cheese bagels or whatever, and the kid is having pancakes,” Murdoc snipped. The girl's smile didn’t waver; she obviously a seasoned foodservice professional. She took the menus back and assured them she’d be back with their food.

“Murdoc I’m 40 years old, I’m not a kid. I can order for myself,” 2D complained. Murdoc rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t feel like listenin’ to you list every item on the menu and their respective good and bad qualities, just to go for the pancakes anyways.” 2D looked like he wanted to argue, but busied himself with the sugar packets instead. Murdoc felt a pinching sensation in his gut he blamed on the lack of food.

“So, uh, we took a shower and we’re gettin’ food, that’s two problems solved. Any chance of a third?” He really wasn’t going to let that go, was he.

“Well, I could  _ really _ use a drink…” Murdoc drawled and 2D frowned, leaning on his hand.

“Murdoc…” he sighed. “I’m jus’ tryin’ ta help you.” The pinching sensation got worse. So they’d fucked, why did that give him some right to Murdoc’s personal life?

“You can help me, by shutting up,” he growled. The waitress came back and served their food. She even left a whole pot of coffee; he must have looked like he needed it that badly. They picked at their food silently for a while before 2D looked up at him with a level stare.

“You know what Muds? No, I’m not gonna shut up about it.” 2D’s voice was calm but his eyes were harsh. “We’re both fucked up over Noodle, and I’m jus’ tryin’ to keep everythin’ from fallin’ apart and you aren’t helpin’!”

2D wanted answers and Murdoc didn’t have answers, didn’t want to give answers. How do you explain a lifetime of some of the most fucked up things you could imagine. Half of the time even he didn’t know why he did the things he did. Why’d he start crying when 2D had gone to fuck him? Who knows. Maybe it was all that sex he’d had when he was younger and stupider and more fucked up on speed. Sex where he couldn’t remember who he was with or hat happened but he definitely remembered the stinging and raw throat feeling of a ‘wild night’. Of maybe it was just the stress of this whole situation and 2D was bearing the brunt of another one of Murdoc’s self-destructive benders.

“I don’t have answers for you, D,” he mumbled picking at the stale cheese crusted over the top of his bagel. “It was a lot, and there’s so much shit in my head.”

“This was a bad idea,” 2D sighed again.

“What, the diner? Coulda told you that D,” Murdoc laughed humorlessly.

“No, sleepin’ together. It was better when we were jus’ friends hangin’ out.” Something else overpowered the pinching, something sicker.

“But you said it was good stress relief,” Murdoc protested. Why was he arguing this, he agreed. This whole thing had been nothing but trouble.

“That was before it was obviously stressin’ you out more, which is stressin’  _ me _ out more!” The singer groaned. His pancakes sat untouched.

“Stuart,” Murdoc said, and the other looked up, “I don’t know what was goin’ on with me, but it’s fine.”

“It isn’t fine!” 2D shouted, drawing stares from the other diners. “I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me what’s wrong, I’m your best mate!”

“Because I don’t know!” Murdoc shouted back. They were getting a lot of odd looks now and Murdoc sighed, trying to calm down. “It could be one of a thousand things Stu; one of a thousand fucked up things that have happened to me at some point in my shitty life.”

“So, jus’ tell me how you were feelin’ then, I wanna help,” 2D pushed and Murdoc wanted to run. He wanted to get up, leave 2D with the bill and drive away from the diner, Wobble Street, and the band.

“Do we have to do this here, D?” he murmured instead. The hubbub in the diner was back to normal but he could feel the eyes and ears of the diners, ready to focus in on the next outburst. 2D looked disappointed but shook his head.

“No, I guess not,” he sighed. Murdoc released the breath he’d been holding. The bagel he’d ordered lay on the table in front of him, untouched, and suddenly he didn’t feel hungry. Instead, he refilled his coffee and nodded towards 2D’s pancakes.

“Eat your food, dullard.” 2D did, with much less enthusiasm than normal. Murdoc managed a few bites of his bagel, but the idea of finishing the whole thing made his stomach turn. When 2D was finished, they paid the bill and left. Murdoc didn’t argue when 2D got in the driver's seat.

“I panicked,” Murdoc said, suddenly breaking the silence as they pulled out of the parking lot. “I don’t know why.”

2D didn’t say anything right away and Murdoc began to sweat. This was stupid he should have just kept his mouth shut. Now 2D had all the ammo he needed to make fun of—

“Thanks for tellin’ me,” 2D responded neutrally. “Was it somethin’ I did?”

“Uh, I don’t think so mate. It’s just… me.” Why wasn’t he laughing or making fun of him? If Stu told Murdoc he’d basically had a panic attack during sex, he’d never let him live it down.

“So are we still doin’ this then, should we uh, talk about it?” Murdoc chuckled as 2D blushed. Not even two hours ago he’d been plowing him into the bed and now 2D was acting like a fucking virgin.

“What, fucking? Satan D you’re actin’ like a teenager. Gonna take me out to the movies now too?” Murdoc scoffed. Stu’s blush deepened.

“Sod off, Murdoc, I’m jus’ askin’.” Murdoc thought for a moment, then leered at the other.

“I mean I suppose we’ve already done it twice, might as well do it again. Jus’ for the stress relief,” he answered, snaking a hand over to 2D’s thigh and squeezing. The singer nearly swerved into traffic.

“O-ok, I-I-I think so too. For the stress.” Slowly running his hand further and further up Stu’s inner thigh Murdoc enjoyed and deepening of 2D’s blush. When he reached the crotch of 2D’s trousers—a deplorable pair of high-waisted slacks that showed off his ass to a criminal degree—the other swatted his hand away.

“Murdoc I’m drivin’!” he whined, wiggling as far away from the bassists roaming hands as well as he could in his seat. Murdoc smirked.

“What you never get a lil’ road head Stu?” Murdoc had never put his seatbelt on, so it was easy for him to lean over into 2D’s space. The singer was panting now, and Murdoc went back to running his hands over the growing hardness in his pants. When he didn’t protest, Murdoc undid the button on those stupid pants and fished out 2D’s dick. Not wanting to waste any time he quickly swallowed it down, making the other arch and moan.

“Oh fuck, Muds,” 2D whined. Murdoc suppressed a chuckle.  _ Now _ they were getting somewhere. Fuck all the talking about feelings,  _ this _ was something Murdoc could understand. “You’re somethin’ else.”

Murdoc did answer, instead getting down to business. He teased and taunted 2D, laving kitten-licks all over the shaft, then suddenly swallowing to the root and sucking hard. He made it clear that he knew his way around sucking dick, just like 2D had a few days ago. The car sped up and slowed down a little with each shift between techniques and 2D was a moaning, sweating mess above him.

“Y-Yeah, righ’ there, Mud’s. O-o-oh fuck, yer good,” the singer praised. Determined to make the other come before they reached the apartment, Murdoc picked up the pace until 2D was a writhing, shaking mess just barely holding on to the steering wheel.

“Muds I’m go-gonna, oh shit, yes!” 2D came with a high groan, and Murdoc swallowed easily. Laughing under his breath he tucked 2D back into his pants and even did up the button. “Fuckin’ hell Murdoc, you’re crazy.”

Feeling a lot more like himself now that he wasn’t being forced to analyze himself, Murdoc sat back with a content groan. Sex was fun, enjoyable, and simple. And it was a hell of a lot better at making him forget his problems than drinking.

“Did you enjoy that Stu?” he asked, smiling slyly. 2D gripped the wheel with a white-knuckled grip, breathing hard.

“I’m gonna get you back for that,” he said darkly, and Murdoc shivered. Something about the way the younger was looking at him from the corner of his eye that made him think the singer meant it.

“Yeah?” Maybe this was a good idea. Maybe this was just what he needed to take his mind of everything and just relax for once.

“Yeah, I am.” 2D said, turning his gaze back to the road.

Murdoc sat back and lit two cigarettes, offering one to 2D. He took it with a quiet thank you, but otherwise focused on the road. They weren’t far from home, and Murdoc didn’t see the point in trying to start up another conversation. Pillow talk had never been his thing anyway. Love ‘em and leave em, that was his deal and it’s served him well so far.

It was a little weird that he and the singer  _ hadn’t _ done anything before this point. He’d always thought Stu was attractive, and he was pretty sure 2D had been gagging for it when they first formed the band. But at the time Murdoc had considered the other to be a stupid kid, and there were so many other, more experienced birds out there he could get. Was that why it’d happened now, because of his dry spell? Either way, 2D was no virginal teenager anymore and Murdoc was more than happy to take advantage of that.

They pulled up to the building and 2D parked the car. Stubbing his cigarette out in the already overflowing ashtray Murdoc got out and made his way inside. 2D followed close behind. When they got inside he noticed that Russel’s shoes weren’t at the door.

“Guess Russ still isn’t home then?” he commented, nodding to the shoes.

“You mean all that arguin’ was for nothin’ because he wasn’t even home?” 2D sighed. A loud laugh burst out of Murdoc’s mouth without his permission.

“Guess you’re right mate, silly innit?” Grabbing a beer from the fridge he sat down in the living room on the sofa. 2D walked right past him and up the stairs. “Where are you off to then?”

“To take a nap,” he answered as he kept walking. Murdoc shrugged from the couch and turned on the TV. Now that he didn’t have to stay locked up in his room to avoid the singer he could catch up on his soaps.

* * *

 

2D didn’t have time to think before his nap. He had a headache coming on so he took the last few pills in his bottle and laid down, fully clothed, on his bed and passed out. He slept a dreamless, deep sleep that left him feeling calm and collected.

When he woke up, he lay still, enjoying the silence. There was nothing like a couple of good orgasms to relax you after a stressful week. Well, maybe only the last two had been stress relieving since the first one had led to an even more stressful few days.

But either way, he felt better than he had in at least a week. He’d been stressing out over Noodle and he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was his fault, even after what Murdoc had said. Murdoc never took the blame for anything and 2D couldn’t believe that he even said anything in the first place. It made it so surreal, he just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

Russel had been texting him updates on Noodle since he’d locked himself in his room, and he assumed Murdoc got the same texts. Nothing had changed, and they still wouldn’t be allowed to visit for a few more days. The waiting had been killing him, which had led to more headaches, which had led to more pill popping, which had led to… well, he was fuzzy on the details. There were a few scrawling unreadable entries in his songwriting notebook, and a couple new doodles on his wall, but nothing significant.

And everything came back to Murdoc, in the end. He really,  _ really _ hadn’t meant for it to happen again, he’d intended to give the bassist a piece of his mind and be done with it. But something drew to the other man, and when he’d kissed him the same thing that had happened on that piano bench occurred. They got carried away;  _ he _ got carried away.

Having that kind of power over the bassist was intoxicating, more so than with any other person he’d fucked. He wanted to make Murdoc grovel and come apart, punish him for all the shit he’d put 2D through in the most delicious of ways. He knew that ignoring him, or lashing out wouldn’t work with Murdoc, the man was far too used to that sort of treatment. But sex? 2D was good at sex and he knew he could use that to drive the other mad.

He felt a lot better about the situation when he put it like that. Stress relief and revenge, those were things that made sense. They weren’t muddled up by relationships and mushy feelings for someone you should hate. He crushed down the part of his brain telling him he was doing something incredibly stupid and got out of bed.

Stretching like a cat he figured he owed it to Russel to see him in person after disappearing for days. Feeling refreshed and actually quite chipper he waltzed out into the hall. There was a moment where he tripped on his shoelace and fell into the wall, adding another dent, but even that couldn’t shake his good mood.

“Ey Russel! You home?” he called outside the drummer's door. A muffled ‘come in’ sounded and 2D opened the door. Inside he could see that Russel had been redecorating since he’d moved in. There were band posters and memorabilia all over the walls and a drum kit set up in the corner. Russel wasn’t messy like 2D and Murdoc, so the room was clean and pleasant to be in by his standards. Russel was over by the window sitting in a rather comfy looking armchair with a magazine. He looked up when 2D entered.

“Hey D, what’s up?” he asked, setting the magazine aside. 2D sat on the stool opposite him.

“Not much Russ, jus’ went out for some supper with Murdoc and took a nap, where were you all day?” Russel looked worn out.

“I went out for a walk for a while, just walkin’ around. Visited some of the music shops, you know,” Russel answered. Stu nodded along, sometimes he’d wander around for a whole day with no goal in mind. “You and Murdoc have been hidin’ in your rooms, did you have a fight or somethin’?”

2D felt a blush start to form on his cheeks and he coughed. “Ah, no, no fights. I jus’ had a migraine, dunno about Muds though. He seemed ok today…”

Russel hummed in agreement. “Well that’s good. I've been talkin’ to the Doctor and she says we can go visit Noodle on Monday if nothin’ changes.” 2D lept up from his seat in joy.

“Really? That’s amazing Russ! I better go tell Murdoc!”

“Sounds good D, I was just goin’ to bed anyway.” With that 2D ran out the door and across the hall to pound on Murdoc’s door.

“Murdoc, Murdoc! Are y’in there?” he called. There was no answer so he opened the door on his own to find the room dark as usual, but also empty. There was no sign that the bassist had been in here since they’d left for supper earlier.

Maybe he was still downstairs watching TV then. 2D hadn’t been napping for that long, and Murdoc was known to get really  _ really _ into his soap-operas on occasion. But a quick walk through the living room made it clear Murdoc wasn’t there either. The table was littered with the normal junk, but a couple of cigarette butts and bottles of Murdoc’s preferred beer showed that he hadn’t been gone long.

He checked the rest of the rooms in the house: the kitchen, bathroom, his room, Noodles room. The bassist was nowhere to be found. Every car was still in the driveway. At this point he was getting a little frustrated, so he decided to ring Muds’ phone and hope it wasn’t on silent or dead.

"Come on Murdoc, pick up,” he mumbled while it rang. He didn’t hear the ringtone, anywhere in the house. Finally, just as he was about the hangup and try again, Murdoc answered.

“Whaddaya want?” Murdoc slurred on the other end of the line. He sounded pretty wasted, and 2D felt a creeping fear deep in his chest.

“Where the hell are you, I’ve been searchin’ the whole house!” Murdoc grunted in response and, from the sound of it, took a loud slurp of alcohol.

“‘m up on th’ rrrroof,” he answered and 2D nearly dropped his phone.

“The roof? Hold on I’ll be right up.” They’d set up a series of ladders to get up to the roof so they could all visit Russ while he was still too big to fit inside. 2D ran up the stairs and up onto the balcony, carefully scaling the ladders to the roof. No good could come of a drunk Murdoc hanging out on top of a three-story building, especially after the overdose.

“Murdoc, you up here?” he called out. He heard a drunken grumble to his right and slowly made his way over. He saw Murdoc sitting near the edge, a bottle of rum in his hand, cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Muds what are you doin’ up here? It’s gettin' late,” he said, cautiously. Murdoc had been in a good mood when they’d got home from the diner, but anything could have happened in the time he was napping.

“Nothin’. Lookin’ at th’ stars,” Murdoc answered, swaying dangerously and 2D sat down next to him, worried he might fall off.

“You can hardly seem them, with all the London light pollution,” 2D commented and Murdoc scoffed.

“Fuck off then an’ leave me be.” So he was in that kind of mood. 2D sighed and gestured to the bottle.

“You wanna give me a sip of that?” Murdoc was a lot easier to handle if you could get him to believe you were working with him, not against him. And right now 2D needed all the help he could get to get the bassist off the roof.

Murdoc handed over the bottle without a word. 2D took a  _ very _ small sip, keeping the bottle. “So, you wanna get off this roof? I think I’m sittin’ in a patch of mildew.”

“S’quiet up here,” Murdoc said, and 2D sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“It’s quiet in the house too Muds.”

“S’not. Can ‘ear ‘er everywhere in there.” Who the hell was he talking about?

“Who Murdoc. Noodle?” 2D hadn’t heard anything when he was inside; he had no idea what the other man was talking about.

“Can ‘ear ‘er talkin’ an’ laughin’. Like she’s there’ bu’ she’s not,” Murdoc dropped his head in his hands. “I can’t stop ‘earin’ it so I came up ‘ere ta make it stop.”

2D’s stomach dropped into his shoes. “Make it stop how, Murdoc?” Murdoc looked up at him, and then down over the edge of the roof. He didn’t say anything but 2D got the gist.

“You said that what happened at the hospital was a one-time thing, a mistake. And now I find you up on the roof, drunk off your ass and thinkin’ about jumpin’?”

Murdoc still didn’t answer. He was staring off over the edge of the roof, oblivious to 2D’s anger. Stu huffed in frustration. “For fuck’s sake Murdoc, we already have one family member who might d—who’s really sick. We don’t need two!”

“M’sorry,” Murdoc mumbled and 2D paused his angry tirade. With a world-weary sigh, he stood up and held out a hand to the bassist.

“Come on Muds, let’s get back inside. You’re not thinkin’ straight.” Murdoc took his hand and allowed 2D to pull him up and sling an arm around him. It was difficult to get to the ladders, nevermind down them with Murdoc so drunk, but 2D had dealt with a drunk mate in worse situations. Maybe. Either way, they managed it.

“Let’s get you to bed then, come on.” He all but dragged Murdoc into the house and down the hall. Passing Russel’s room he could see the light was out; he was on his own then.

“Here we are mate, casa del Murdoc,” he joked, but Murdoc was probably too drunk to understand. He struggled to open the door, support his friend and get him inside all at the same time but eventually they were inside and he could drop the bassist onto his mess of a bed. Murdoc moaned a little but otherwise didn’t show any reaction.

“Well, it’s probably not a good idea to leave you alone right now,” he sighed again. He decided to briefly dash to his room to get a pair of pyjamas and a bucket—in case Murdoc threw up—before helping the bassist out of his clothes. He debated trying to find sleeping clothes for the other man as well, but he didn’t want to maneuver the drunken man anymore. Instead, he left the man in his skivvies and sat on the bed beside him.

2D wasn’t ready to sleep yet, he’d just woken up from a nap not an hour ago after all, but he  _ really _ didn’t want to leave Murdoc alone now. So he decided to sit back and entertain himself with his phone. Surely he’d eventually get tired enough to sleep.


	9. Whatever You Want

_ He was on a ledge, ocean crashing against the rocks below. The never-ending squawking of seagulls rang in his ears and he wished they would just shut up for five minutes so he could  _ think. _ It was like being on Plastic Beach again, only this time the sea was less foreboding and more welcoming, calling to him. _

_ Murdoc… Murdoc.... _

_ It’d be so easy, so easy to take one step forward and fall into the sea, to sink into her depths and end this never-ending squawking, this never-ending  _ feeling _. He was named for the sea after all, and he always seemed to come back to it, it was only right that she would end it for him. _

_ With more resolve than he’d felt in years, he took a step forward off the cliff, feeling the gut-punch wretch of gravity pulling him down down down towards those sharp rocks and black waters. Suddenly the sea didn’t look so inviting, and he felt panic course through his veins. This was a mistake he didn’t want— _

Murdoc woke up suddenly in a cold sweat, his heart racing. He swore for a second he could still hear the seagulls—was he back on Plastic Beach?—but it turned out to be 2D snoring beside him. What the hell was 2D doing in his bed again; they hadn’t fucked last night, had they? Well, other than the time before dinner. He couldn’t remember so he must have been awfully drunk, and Stu didn’t strike him as they type of guy to take advantage. But then again, you could never really know.

Still, he had his pants on and didn’t feel sticky so the singer must have been there for another reason. Maybe he really had had a nightmare this time and crawled into Murdoc’s bed for comfort? Made about as much sense as anything else. 

The adrenaline from the dream was wearing off and Murdoc suddenly realized that he felt like crap. That special type of crap feeling that came only after either a  _ really _ good night or a bad one. Judging by the fact there was a bucket of vomit beside him and no lovely ladies around, it was probably the latter. 

“Urgh,” Murdoc groaned as he tried to sit up. His mouth tasted and felt like a bog and his head ached something fierce, nevermind the fact he was absolutely bursting for a piss. Narrowly avoiding sticking his bare foot in the sick bucket, Murdoc trudged through the room and out to the bathroom. 

Thanking Satan it was free he walked in and stood in front of the toilet, not bothering to close the door. With the most pressing matters taken care of, he stopped to brush his teeth and take some paracetamol. He would have loved something a bit stronger, but he remembered 2D had had his panties in a bunch over Murdoc ‘borrowing’ too many pills lately. 

He sighed in resignation and stared into the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, saggy skin, and stubble greeted him with all the enthusiasm of a dead skunk. 

“Satan, I look like  _ shit, _ ” he said. Bits and pieces of the night before were coming back to him now in the harsh lighting of the bathroom. He’d intended to watch some TV while 2D was napping, maybe have a few beers, but medical dramas lose their interest when someone you care about’s in the hospital. So he’d tried to watch some of his favourite soap opera  _ The Bad, the Badder, and the Baddest,  _  but  _ of course _ they’d been airing a special where the main character was in a coma. After that he’d given up on watching TV and had instead doubled down on drinking. One thing had led to another and then… Well, then he didn’t really remember anything except that it had been dark and a little cold.

He was still staring vacantly into the mirror when a loud bang sounded in the hallway. Before he could investigate 2D, dressed only in his pyjamas burst into the washroom looking stressed.

“Oh! Murdoc! You’re in here that’s good,” he exclaimed, looking around the bathroom wildly. Murdoc wasn’t impressed.

“What the bloody hell are you doin’ Dents?” he asked. 2D looked relieved but still antsy, wringing his hands together in front of his chest. 

“W-well I woke up an’ you weren’t in bed so I came to look for you!” Murdoc wasn’t buying it.

“So what’s that got to do with you stompin’ about like a hippo in heat?” 2D flushed, suddenly more interested in the tile grout than Murdoc. 

“Well, ah, after las’ night I was a bit worried about you…” 

“Last night?” So something had happened between him and 2D last night. Hopefull,y nothing else endlessly embarrassing that the singer could hold over him.

2D looked confused, then sighed. “You were pretty drunk… Murdoc I found you on the roof.”

“And?”

“An’ you were gonna jump off!” 2D shouted suddenly angry. Satan, all this emotional back and forth was going to give Murdoc whiplash. Now he remembered. After he’d run out of beer he’d switched to stronger spirits to take his mind of things, but it hadn’t worked. He got into an unfortunately pensive mood and ended up on the roof where 2D must have found him. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

“I doubt it dullard, I'm sure you’re just overreactin’ as usual,” he snapped, eager to get back to the bedroom. He pushed past the lanky man and was making a beeline for his bedroom when he heard Russel’s door opening. Great, now the two of them were going to be all over him. 

“What the hell is goin’ on out here?” Russel asked, looming over Murdoc. The bassist scowled and crossed his arms. Just what he fucking needed, another nosey asshole.

“2D’s been actin’ like my fuckin’  _ nanny _ all week and I damn near sick of it!” Murdoc snapped. 2D threw his hands up in frustration.

“I found him on the roof, drunk off his ass last night Russ,” he explained. Russel let out a deep sigh and turned to Murdoc.

“Murdoc… what’s goin’ on with you man?” Murdoc could feel himself getting more and more angry at his bandmates.

“What’s going on with me?! What’s going on with you? Everyone’s all in my business all the time!” 2D looked angry, his fists clenched and eyes cold. Russel looked more confused than anything.

“We’re jus’ tryin’ ta help you Murdoc! Ever since the accident, you’ve been doing all this crazy shit and we’re worried!” Stu shouted and that was the final straw. Russel stepped forward as Murdoc whirled around and stalked towards the singer.

“Newsflash, dullard! I do crazy shit all the time!”

“Shit like jumpin’ off the roof an’ ODin’ in the hospital waiting room?” 

“Yes! But usually in private!” Murdoc shouted back before he could stop himself. He felt Russel come up behind him and lay a large hand on his shoulder and fought not to jump. 

“OK guys, calm down and we can talk about this like adults,” he said, steering Murdoc towards the stairs. “Let's sit down in the living room and talk this out.” 

Murdoc shook the hand off his shoulder and held his ground. “Fuck off, both of you, and let me get into my room. I ain’t talkin’ about shit.”

“Murdoc I really think we should ta—” Russel started but 2D interrupted him. 

“We’re gonna talk about this whether you like it or not Muds,” he threatened and Murdoc was a little surprised at the firmness of his tone. Some of that dominance he’d seen the other night when they’re fucked was leaking into 2D’s everyday persona, and it was off putting. 

“And since when do you get to tell me what to do, Faceache?” Murdoc growled, getting right up in Stu’s face. Stuart didn’t back down. 

“Since I started havin’ to stop you from fuckin’ dying all the time!” he said, frustrated. 

“Well no one asked you to!” There was a pounding in his ears and a squeezing in his chest that was building rapidly. Murdoc felt the nausea and headache from his hangover worsening and all he wanted to do was go lie down in his own bed and sleep. “I didn’t _ask_ you to stop me _Stuart_ I—”

“Enough you two!” Russel interrupted. “Stu go downstairs and put some coffee on, it’s too early for this shit without coffee. Murdoc, go put some clothes on and meet us downstairs in 10 minutes.”

“Rus—”

“And you best believe,” Russel said, giving Murdoc a stern look, “that I will come up here and drag you down the stairs by your ratty-ass moptop if you don’t.”

Murdoc growled and pushed past the drummer and slammed into his bedroom, not caring to look back at 2D. 

“FUCK!” he shouted at the top of his voice, kicking one of the bottles on the floor into a wall. It shattered spectacularly but did nothing to make him feel better. The two men outside could probably hear but he didn’t care. 

The room still smelled of vomit and it made him gag. He didn’t want to do this now, or even ever. What were they going to talk about anyways? That the fame, the women, the money? It all made him feel empty. Or how about how he’d been trying to off himself for years but had never really got it to stick? Why were they both so fixated on him when Noodle was the one in real trouble?

Whatever. Russel said he had to be downstairs in 10 minutes, but not that he had to be sober. Throwing on a probably a dirty shirt and a definitely dirty pair of jeans he used the next 8 minutes to drink as much as possible. Which was a lot. 

By the time he made it down the stairs and into the living room, he was stumbling and feeling  _ much _ calmer. Russel was seated on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand and he could hear 2D bumbling around in the kitchen.

“Glad I didn’t have to drag you down here,” Russel said, eyeing the bassist over his mug. Murdoc didn’t answer and instead sauntered into the kitchen to get his own mug of caffeinated sludge. 

“Oh, you actually came down,” 2D remarked as he wobbled in. Murdoc busied himself with pouring a mug without giving himself 3rd degree burns instead of answering. “Are you really givin’ me the silent treatment?”

“No.” The stream of coffee kept dodging his cup and splashing all over the countertop. 2D watched him for a few moments before sighing.

“Give it here, Murdoc. Before you waste it all.” The singer snatched the carafe and filled the mug, going so far as to add cream and sugar before handing it back. “How did you even manage to get this drunk in 10 minutes?”

“Determination,” he answered and 2D laughed a little. At least he wasn’t angry anymore. 

The both wandered back into the living room and sat down. 2D sat down beside Russel and Murdoc settled into the comfy armchair Noodle usually occupied. All three men sipped coffee for a little while before Russel broke the silence. 

“So uh, I think we have a lot of stuff that needs to be talked about today, that we’ve been ignorin’ for a long time. So does anyone wanna start talkin’?” The drummer looked between 2D and Murdoc.

“Nothin’ t’talk abou’,” Murdoc said, rolling his eyes. He was starting to wish he’d brought down some rum to add to his coffee. 2D sighed—he’d been doing that an  _ awful _ lot recently—and set his mug down. 

“Murdoc you said upstairs... Well you implied that…” 2D babbled. Russel eventually took pity on him and interrupted. 

“Murdoc, what D’s tryin’ to ask is if you’ve tried to kill yourself before? And why?” With so much alcohol in his blood, the blind panic he expected to feel was muted and distant. 

“Why d’you care?” he heard himself ask. Both 2D and Russel looked upset. 

“We’re your friends, Muds, of course we care, I told you that the other day,” 2D said, quietly. Russel nodded in agreement. 

“I know you’ve had a rough life, Murdoc, but I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.”

Even his anger was muted. “A rough life? You don’ know t-the half of it, so fuck off tryin’ t’act like you care.” Both men on the sofa look like they were at a loss for what to do.

“What about Noodle, Murdoc? You know she loves you to death,” 2D pushed. A feeling of dread and sadness washed over Murdoc as he thought of their little girl. 

“Wha’ about her? If s-she knows wha’s good for her she’ll hate me jus’ like everyone else.” Oh Satan, he didn’t mean to say all that. Maybe getting drunk wasn’t such a good idea.

Russel looked at a loss for words, but 2D stepped up. “We don’t hate you Murdoc, you’re family.” Fuck he was too drunk cause he could have sword 2D said—

“He’s right. You’ve done some shitty stuff in the past, but what family doesn’t have some skeletons in the closet?” Russel said, smiling. 

“Literally, there’s a skeleton in the hall closet, I think,” 2D laughed, but Murdoc wasn’t really listening. He couldn’t focus on anything, voices slipping into and out of his mind like water through a colander. The dread from before that was breaking through the haze of alcohol and turning into full blown panic.

“N-no. It’s not like tha’. You can’ jus’...” Fuck he was getting emotional. He’d thought of the band as a family before, hell he’d outright adopted Noodle, but not since before Plastic Beach. He’d been under the assumption that ever since he’d royally cocked that whole thing up they were just putting up with him as a financial necessity. His chest hurt. 

“Mate, you’re not lookin’ too good. You gonna puke?” 2D asked. Russel didn’t bother waiting for an answer and left the room, presumably to get a bucket. “Muds, what’s goin’ on mate?”

“Why d’you  _ care _ ?” he asked again. It didn’t make sense, there was no way that they still thought of him like that, he’d fucked up so bad so many times. 

“I told you mate, you’re family. An’ you’ve been doin’ a lot better since we got here, you don’t really hit me or nothin’.” Because he’d been spending all his time away from the band. Away from them so they couldn’t leave him first. He dropped his head in his hands.

“S’not tha’ easy…” It couldn’t be. But 2D shook his head. 

“No, it isn’t. There’s still a lot of stuff we gotta deal with but… well we can try to deal with it, if you wanna.” He did, sort of. Losing the only thing he’d ever had that was even close to a family wasn’t something he wanted. But he didn’t know where to start, or how to even try. There wasn’t enough air, he couldn’t breath,  _ he couldn’t breath _ . 2D noticed and jumped up.

“Oh shit, Murdoc calm down mate,” Stu said, coming to stand in front of the bassist. Murdoc wanted to tell him to fuck off but he couldn’t  _ fucking  _ breath. Thoughts flew through his head at a mile a minute; maybe they’d forgive him maybe he had a chance, how could he be so  _ stupid _ , this was all some sick prank.

“Hey! Murdoc, look at me ok, jus’ take some slow breaths. Breath with me, ok?” 2D was kneeling in front of him now, he could feel the singer’s body heat. He pressed the palms of his hands harder against his eyes, rubbing hard enough to see stars and for 2D to grab at them. 

“Murdoc, jus’ look at me alrigh’?” Murdoc did, ever movement feeling like a struggle. He didn’t have control of his body right now, and it took every ounce of strength to meet 2D’s pupiless stare. “Jus’ like me, in, an’ out, ahhhhhhhh.”

2D held his hands in a light grasp, his long fingers twiddling and fidgeting against Murdoc’s own. He focused on that; it helped.

“Good! You’re doin’ good Muds. It’s gonna be ok,” 2D cooed and Murdoc wanted to hit him so badly. 

“S-shut up,” he gasped and 2D nodded, but didn’t let go. Secretly grateful, Murdoc tried to breath through the waves of anxiety. His busted nose didn’t exactly lend itself to even breathing, so he panted through his mouth. By the time Russel came back with a bucket, his breathing was steadier and more controlled. 

“Everythin’ all right in here?” Russel asked and 2D let go of Murdoc’s hands to turn around. 

“Yeah Rus, I don’ think we need that bucket though.”2D sat back down on the couch and Russel followed. Were they going to start up again with the 3rd degree? Murdoc didn’t think he could handle any more questions. 

“OK, well,” Russel paused and took a sip of his now cold coffee. Murdoc did the same, wetting his throat in anticipation of more questions, “maybe we should talk about this again tomorrow after we visit Noodle.”

“Wait what?” Murdoc asked, confused enough to push through the ebbing anxiety and speak up.

“The doctors said we could go and visit Noodle tomorrow! I was tryin’ to tell you that las’ night!.” 2D said excitedly. Murdoc’s ansixty began to ramp back up.

“Is she awake?” he asked. Russel shook his head.

“No, they aren’t gonna wake her up yet but they said if we were real quiet and didn’t stay too long we could go see her.” That made him feel conflicted. It wasn’t good that Noodle was still in a coma, far from it, but as long as she was still out she couldn’t disown him. 

“O-OK,” Murdoc breathed. “If we’re done here I’m gonna—”

“Jus’ one more thing Muds,” 2D interrupted, looking nervous. “Russ and me were talkin’ and, well, we don’t think you should be alone too much after the las’ couple incidents.”

Murdoc wanted to be angry but he was just tired. He hadn’t even been awake for 2 hours yet and already he wanted to crawl back into bed with a bottle and finish the day. “Whatever, jus’ don’ bug me.”

Both Russel and 2D looked relieved that he hadn’t put up more of a fight. “We’ll try not to Muds,” Russel answered and Murdoc rolled his eyes.

“Are we done  _ now? _ ” Murdoc asked. 2D and Russel shared a look but they nodded and Murdoc got up, stumbling. “Then I’m goin’ back t’bed.” 2D followed him. Satan was he going to have to deal with the dullard trailing after him  _ everywhere?  _ Russel stayed where he was, turning back to his coffee and the TV.

Murdoc ignored the singer and climbed the staircase slowly and with an iron grip on the bannister. He could feel the idiot close behind him, hovering, but he tried to focus on the goal: sleep. When he made it to the landing he walked as quickly as he could to his bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. 2D walked in not seconds later and idled in the middle of the room. 

“Well, do whatever you wan’, I’m sleepin,” Murdoc mumbled, falling face first into the bed. The pillow 2D had been sleeping on was right under his nose, and he inhaled the faint smell of butterscotch and weed that clung to the singer. Speaking of, Murdoc felt the bed dip and 2D make himself comfortable, not laying down but sitting up against the headboard.

“Have a good sleep Muds,” he said, but Murdoc was already half conscious. His last thought was that he should probably tell 2D to empty the puke bucket he’d left beside the bed, but sleep claimed him before he could get a word out.


	10. Afternoon

2D spent most of Sunday watching Murdoc sleep and playing around on his iPad. Russel brought them both food and hung around for a while, but Murdoc didn’t wake up and 2D convinced the drummer he didn’t mind watching over him. It was actually a little peaceful; Murdoc was quiet and 2D could focus on making sure he was ok and making music instead of thinking about the next day. 

He also used the time to poke around Murdoc’s bedroom. It was, put simply, a total disaster. They hadn’t been living here a year and the room looked like it was full of decades worth of trash. Aside from the alarmingly high number of bottles and cans piled up, 2D found thousands of papers with scribbled lyrics and notes, dirty clothes scattered over every available surface, and an innumerable number of knickknacks. Some of the walls had cracks and fist-shaped holes in them occasionally patched over with band posters.

During his poke-around, 2D a lot of stuff that was worrying, like posters held up by knives, unlabeled baggies of powder, and more pills than even 2D had ever seen. Part of him wanted to wake the older man up and tell him off for begging from 2D’s stash, but the more reasonable part prevailed and instead, he flushed what he found. He couldn’t do a lot about the knives.

Eventually, he got tired and nodded off beside Murdoc for a nap. It was easy because Murdoc had blacked out all the windows with newspapers before any of the other’s had moved in, making it feel like perpetual night time. When he woke up Murdoc was awake and smoking.“Mmm what time is it?” he mumbled sleepily. Murdoc glanced over at him.

“Afternoon, I think, I didn’t check. Nice job you’re doin’ of keepin’ an eye on me by the way Stu-Pot,” Murdoc answered. “Smoke?”

2D nodded and sat up, taking the fag and lighter from Murdoc. “Sod off, I got bored watching you sleep.

“No one asked you to.” But there wasn’t any heat in Murdoc’s voice. 2D was glad he wasn’t angry anymore, at least for now.

“Whatever, Muds. Whaddya wanna do now we’ve slept half the day?” Murdoc stretched and grunted.

“Go back to sleep? No.” He reached down the side of the bed and pulled out a bottle of booze that 2D hadn’t gotten rid of. “Get drunk,  _ then _ go back to sleep.” Murdoc uncapped the bottle and took a drink, but didn’t get much before 2D snatched it from him.

“Seriously Murdoc, give it a rest,” he said as he set the bottle down on his side of the bed. “We should do somethin’, go out maybe.”

“I’m not leavin’ the house, but you’re welcome to go any time you like,” Murdoc groused. 2D resigned himself to begin stuck with the bassist.

“Then maybe we can talk a little more about what we were talkin’ about this mornin’?” It was pushing his luck he knew, but they practically had Murdoc on  _ suicide watch _ and he still didn’t understand why.

“Though we agreed we’d talk about that later, D.” Murdoc looked annoyed as he flicked his ashed off onto the comforter. 2D didn’t back down.

“We did, but I’m jus’ worried Muds. You’re my best mate,” he said, turning towards the bassist. “I wanna help.”

“Well you can’t, D. Jus’ drop it. Please.” The only other time 2D had heard Murdoc say please was when they were fucking. Please, for Murdoc, was kind of a big deal.

“Then how about that thing we did before, name one thing we can try to fix right now, an’ we’ll do it,” 2D said. Murdoc looked frustrated but resigned.

“Fine! I guess I uh, I guess I don’t have any clean laundry for tomorrow.” That wasn’t what Stu was hoping to hear, but at least it was something.

“Alrigh’ then, we can do some laundry,” he offered. Murdoc sighed.

“Sure, D. You can help me do laundry.” 2D smiled and got up, offering a hand to Murdoc. The bassist stared for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and taking it, facing the mess that was his bedroom. “Any suggestions for where to start?”

* * *

Even with the two of them, it took around an hour to gather up the majority of Murdoc’s dirty laundry. Then they realized that 2D also had no clean clothes, so they spent another 30 minutes gathering all that up as well. They hauled everything down to the basement where the washer was and overloaded the machine to the maximum. If Russel had been there he probably would have blown a gasket.

“OK, laundry in progress! S’there anything else we can knock outta the park?” 2D asked cheerfully. Murdoc sighed, leaning against the machine.

“We still have to dry and put all this shit away, so why don’t you give up the happy helper act and let me go back to bed,” he answered, but 2D didn’t give up.

“Aw come on Murdoc. You wanna get some food or somethin’?” Other than the other day when they got stoned 2D hadn’t seen Murdoc eat much of anything in the past few weeks. Even at the diner he’d just picked at his bagel then left it to be thrown out.

Murdoc shrugged. “Maybe you can get Russel to make you somethin’ cause I’m not cookin’.” That was good enough for Stu.

“Alright, let’s go find him then,” he chirped, grabbing Murdoc by the arm and dragging him up the staircase. 2D checked the living room and kitchen, but Russel wasn’t around. “Damn, looks like he went out?”

Murdoc shrugged, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and sat at the kitchen table. “You’re outta luck then, Blue Bird.”

“Aw come on Muds, I know you know how to make some lunch stuff at least,” Stu whined. Murdoc managed those bacon sandwiches the other day, why couldn’t he just do it again?

“I’m not cookin’ Stu,” the bassist insisted. 2D pouted harder.

“Pretty please Muds? I’ll uh, make it worth your while?” Maybe appealing to Murdoc’s more perverse nature would get him to give in. But Murdoc didn’t. Instead, he lowered his head to the table, forgetting his beer. “Muds?”

“I’m too tired, Stu, jus’ order something or whatever,” Murdoc answered. 2D nervously wrung his hands in front of his chest and shifted from foot to foot. Despite promising to leave it alone, 2D was really worried that his friend's current mood had a lot to do with the discussion this morning.

“OK Muds.” He pulled out his phone and put in a repeat order for pizza and wings. “It’ll be here in a bit.” Murdoc didn’t answer. 2D sat down at the table as well, tapping his toes nervously.

“Are… are you ok Muds? You’ve been kinda off all mornin’,” Stu asked. “I know this morning was a little rough on all of us.”

Murdoc shrugged, not lifting his head. “I said I’m tired, D.”

“But you’ve been sleepin’ all day! And night. How can you be tired?”

“There are different types of tired, Stu. I’m not sleep tired, I’m jus’... tired.” 2D knew how that felt. Sometimes, especially on Plastic Beach, he couldn’t get out of bed even though he couldn’t sleep anymore.

“I get it, I think. There anything I can do to help, mate?” Normally Murdoc refused help from anyone, but he’d been warming up to 2D recently so the singer thought it might be worth a shot.

“Get me something stronger than beer?” Murdoc asked. 2D rolled his eyes and shoved at his shoulder.

“Anything  _ but _ alcohol? He laughed, leaving his hand on Murdoc’s shoulder. Murdoc didn’t shove him off, so that was a good sign.

“Think you can punch hard enough to knock me out for the night?” 2D shook his head.

“For real, Muds, what’s up?” Murdoc fidgeted with his beer can. The kitchen was looking a lot cleaner than before, thanks to Russel’s higher standards, but it still bore the signs of 3 single men and a young adult using it. 2D’s eyes wandered to the drawings on the fridge--some of them were all the way from Kong--and then back to Murdoc.

“Do… do you think she’s gonna hate me?” Murdoc asked, quietly, still preoccupied with the can.

“Muds we already talked about this, Noodle loves you man,” he assured. “An’ even if she’s mad, she’ll forgive you.”

Murdoc finally looked up at 2D, his expression dark. “You keep sayin’ that, but how d’you know?”

2D thought for a moment, knowing that his answer had to be a good one to satisfy his mate. “Well, uh, I'm still here, aren't I? An’ you’ve done lots of bad stuff to me so…” Murdoc's face fell even further. “Shit that’s not how I meant it I--”

“No, you’re right D. I already know you’d all be better off without me here to screw things up all the time,” Murdoc near-whispered, and 2D felt his heart sink. Murdoc had been saying a lot of stuff like that recently, even before the stuff with Noodle. Maybe 2D had missed a lot of signs, even before the overdose.

“That’s not true Muds, I swear. We’re all tryin’ to be better this time, an’ I can tell you are too.” He pulled his chair closer to Murdoc’s so he could sling an arm around the bassist's shoulders. Murdoc leaned into the embrace, just a little.

“If me tryin’ to get better means gettin’ our guitarist hit by a car then maybe I shouldn’t be tryin’.” God everything 2D said Murdoc turned around into something depreciating.

“Why won’t you jus’ believe me Murdoc?” he sighed and again Murdoc shrugged.

“‘Cause it doesn’t make any sense Stu. Why you’d all put up with me after all the stuff I’ve done. And don’t say because we’re family because my family was shit and I left them behind easy as anything,” Murdoc said in a rush as if he had to get the words out before it was too late.

2D was quiet for a few seconds, before pulling Murdoc in tighter. “Because we fuckin’  _ love you, _  you stupid bastard. An’ we know you love us so we can work through it alrigh’?” He felt Murdoc’s shoulders shake lightly, but overall the bassist stayed still. They sat there, 2D not knowing if he should let go, or if Murdoc even wanted him to let go until the doorbell startled them.

“Oh shit, the pizza!” 2D exclaimed, running to the front door. The pizza man was a bored teenager who handed over the pizza and took the cash without so much as looking up at Stu. Unphased, 2D lugged the pizza and wings back to the kitchen and dumped them on the table. “OK, let’s dig in.”

“I’m not hungry.” 2D grabbed two plates and filled them both with pizza and wings, setting one in front of Murdoc. “2D I said I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care. I bough’ all this pizza an’ wings an’ you’re gonna eat some,” 2D told him with a smile full of pizza sauce. Murdoc stared back for a moment, but seemed to resign himself to his lunch and picked up a slice. “I even got olives, like you like.”

“Mmhm,” Murdoc hummed. It took him at least five minutes of nibbling to get through a single slice, while 2D downed at least four. The bassist picked at a couple chicken wings too, making sure to look put-upon the entire time. When 2D pushed his plate back, ¾ of the pizza and wings demolished, Murdoc did the same.

“But you hardly ate any Muds!” Stu whined. Murdoc glared.

“I ate some, so shut your trap,” Murdoc warned. The strange atmosphere from before the pizza was quickly returning and 2D didn’t know what to do. Murdoc didn’t seem interested in doing much of anything other than drinking and sleeping, but 2D felt like he needed to do something to cheer the other man up.

“So, uh, what now?” Murdoc asked, finishing his beer. Surprisingly he’d stuck to just the one during lunch, sipping at it long after it had gone warm. It was weird, seeing him so aimless.

“We could go up to my room, work on music some more, if you wanna,” he offered and Murdoc nodded slowly. It felt like he was treading water, barely keeping his head afloat as motioned for Murdoc to follow him upstairs. The sinking feeling followed him up the steps and into the bedroom, like Murdoc was an anchor pulling him down down down. They both stepped into the room and 2D turned back around to the bassist.

“Do you wanna hea--” he was cut off by Murdoc’s lips pressing urgently against his own. Shocked into stillness he stood, hands at his sides, feet planted, stomach sinking. Murdoc kissed him, open-mouthed and messy and 2D thought maybe he should pull back, that Murdoc wasn’t in his right mind today, but then Murdoc whispered against his skin and he knew he couldn’t refuse.

“Please, D. Please I need this,” Murdoc begged, and how could 2D resist that? He sprang into action, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and deepening the kiss, crushing the mouths together. Their kisses before paled in comparison to these, like holding a match against a bonfire. Stu could taste the need on Murdoc’s tongue, could feel it in the way the bassist clung to his back. And 2D felt the same. If this was the way he could be useful, if this was how he could make Murdoc feel better, then it was the right thing to do.

Their clothes were quick to go this time, no games or requests. 2D fell back on the bed, pulling Murdoc on top of him and the whole time they didn’t stop snogging like their lives depended on it. Finally, 2D broke their kiss and moved to suck and bite at the other man’s neck. Murdoc moaned beautifully, his back arching, his legs wrapping around Stu’s waist. Their cocks brushed and Murdoc begged again.

“Stu, ah, please jus’--” 2D bit down hard at the junction between Murdoc’s neck and shoulder, cutting him off. He felt the skin break under his teeth and Murdoc hissed, but 2D didn’t give him time to complain. Soothing the bite with a kiss he reached out to his bedside table for the lube.

“Get yourself ready for me?” 2D asked, smoothing his hands over Murdoc’s naked back. “I want to watch.”

A light blush bloomed over the bassist's cheeks but he took the lube. He sat back on his knees and slicked his fingers, avoiding eye contact as he reached around to prod at his own entrance. 2D watched in rapt attention as the blush spread across Murdoc’s neck and chest as he worked a finger in; the view was intoxicating and Stu wanted more.

“Touch yourself too, I wanna see…” Murdoc didn’t need too much coercing and he took his dick in hand, giving quick, rough jerks in time with his fingers.

“Slower, an’ add another finger, if you can,” 2D ordered feeling more and more confident as the bassist indulged him. “Does it feel good, Muds?”

“Mmmh, y-yeah. Feel’s great Blue Bird,” Murdoc groaned, his eyes slipping shut in pleasure. 2D sat up so he was face to face with the older man, his lips ghosting against his ear.

“Are you imginin’ it’s my cock? That it’s me makin’ you feel good Murdoc?” The bassist groaned something that sounded positive and sped up his movements. “Do you wish it was my fingers in you, makin’ you scream?”

“Y-yeah, I c-can’t reach…” The angle must not have been right and 2D could tell that Murdoc was just barely brushing his own prostate, teasing himself unintentionally. Feeling a bit sadistic he nibbled at the other’s neck and ear, not enough to bruise but enough to add more tension. By the time he pulled back Murdoc was a whining, shaking mess.

“D! P-please.” God, Murdoc was gorgeous when he begged. Protectiveness and the desire to please rose up in Stu like a storm and he shifted to wrap his arms around Murdoc, once again claiming his lips in a warm kiss.

“Let me take care of you Murdoc,” 2D asked as he pushed the other’s hands away and replaced them with his own. He didn’t tease, his long fingers seeking the other’s prostate and finding it immediately, his other hand starting up a slow and steady pace of jerking him off. Murdoc’s whines and please turned to muted sobs as he clung onto 2D for dear life, letting the younger man push him to the edge of pleasure.

“Shhh, relax baby, let me make you feel good. What do you need?” In contrast to their last tryst 2D was trying to be as gentle as possible. It made sense, to him at least, that sometimes you need it fast and rough and other times slow and sweet.

“Whatever you want, D, Satan, whatever you want,” Murdoc sobbed as 2D mercilessly pressed against his prostate. So he wanted to be used then? 2D could do that.

“Ride me,” Stu ordered, slipping his fingers out and passed the lube back to Murdoc. The bassist wasted no time in slicking up 2D’s dick and getting in position, pausing only for a moment to line them up before sinking down in one even movement. The singer watched in awe as Murdoc seemed to come apart at the seams, gripping 2D’s shoulders tightly and breathing unevenly through his mouth. 

“Oh s-shit, oh shit,” Murdoc chanted, hips twitching and cock leaking precum all over his and 2D’s bellies. Unwilling to hurt his mate, Stu waited for him to move on his own and when he didn’t he got concerned.

“You alrigh’ there, Muds?” 2D asked, petting Murdoc’s hips gently. The bassist nodded and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Stuart’s shoulder. 2D took that as permission to move, and he cautiously bumped his hips upward, pushing further into the tight heat of his best mate. Murdoc moaned quietly and lifted himself in response, letting 2D slowly fuck him from below.

“You gonna make me do all the work? Greedy bastard,” 2D chastised. Murdoc chuckled lightly between moans. “You feel so good, Muds.”

“Y-you too D.  _ So good _ .” They stayed like that, moving slowly together and trading open-mouthed, soft kisses. It felt less like no strings attached sex and more like making love. But that was a stupid idea because 2D didn’t love Murdoc like that, couldn’t love someone who’d treated him the way Murdoc had in the past. But it was nice to pretend for a little while, to indulge that decades-old fantasy.

“All mine, you’re all mine aren’t you Murdoc.” It wasn’t a question, and Murdoc didn’t answer, but he did squeeze his arms around 2D a little tighter. “You want to be mine, like this, jus’ for me.”

Murdoc keened and his hips stuttered. 2D allowed him to pick up the pace, feeling the same desperation himself. It didn’t take long for Murdoc to ramp up to a rapid pace, his legs struggling to keep up with his need for pleasure. 2D was beginning to feel that overwhelming urge for  _ more _ as well, so after a few frustrated groans from Murdoc he pushed the other onto his back and took over.

Somehow this position felt even closer than before. Nearly every inch of them was touching, form the bassist's legs wrapped around 2D’s hips to their chests pressed together, trapping his cock between their bellies. Stu felt Murdoc’s nails raking against his back and he bit and sucked at his throat in retaliation. Murdoc gasped and one of his hands flew to his own hair, gripping tightly in a bid to remain grounded through the onslaught of feelings.

“Oh fuck, Muds, you’ve gotta come for me. I wanna see you when you come, bet you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” 2D panted, fully immersed in his own fantasy.

“F’off, s’embarrisin’ ah--” Murdoc whined, his head thrown back in ecstasy, but he didn’t try to push 2D off or hide. 2D continued to thrust steady and hard, snapping his hips at the bottom of each thrust and making Murdoc jerk with the force.

“Come on, Muds, come on an’ be good for your singer,” 2D encouraged with a light bite, and that was the final straw. With a deep groan, Murdoc was coming, slicking the space between them with his come. 2D watched the whole thing, the way Murdoc tensed and relaxed, how his one hand clenched in his hair and the other scrabbled at 2D’s back. But it was the tiny, breathy sigh of his name after Murdoc stopped coming that did him in, his hips thrusting erratically as he spilled his release.

It took him a few moments to recover, but when he did he looked up from where his head had come to rest on Murdoc’s chest. The bassist didn’t look upset this time, which was good, and 2D smiled.

“Feelin’ better mate? he asked quietly, though Murdoc still looked startled.

“Uh, yeah. I guess so. Thanks D,” he answered, wiping a hand down his face. 2D pulled out and grabbed a t-shirt off the floor to wipe up their mess.

“Don’t mention it Muds, s’not like I didn’t have fun too.” 2D laid back and stretched out like a cat, feeling his joints pop and crack as he did so. “Think I’m gettin’ a little too old for this teenage canoodlin’”.

Murdoc turned on his side to face the singer and laughed. “Who the fuck says canoodlin’ nowadays? You really are old.” It was a real laugh, a little deeper and less sinister than his regular one and it made 2D smile. Slowly he found himself leaning towards the other man until his head was once again resting on the bassist's chest, one arm resting on his naked hip in a half hug.

Murdoc’s laugh died out slowly and they were left in silence in a sort of semi-embrace. Eventually, Murdoc began to squirm and 2D was sure that he’d overstepped some unspoken, no cuddling after sex rule, but was surprised when the other man was just moving into a more comfortable position. His hold wasn’t reciprocated but neither was it pushed away and that was good enough for him, 2D was a cuddler after sex usually.

“But really D, thanks for, well, for carin’ I guess,” Murdoc mumbled into his hair and 2D shrugged. Neither man was really tired, but they lounged in bed for a couple of hours, smoking and shooting the shit. At one point 2D finally relented and they shared a spliff. It was, 2D thought, a pretty good afternoon.


	11. Shatter

It felt like time was skipping forward for Murdoc. One minute he was flat on his back, being fucked into oblivion, the next he was standing in the guest parking of London Bridge Hospital finishing the world's shortest smoke. 2D stood next to him, fidgeting with his coat zipper and Russel was a few feet away, avoiding the second-hand smoke.

“Come on Murdoc, hurry up!” the singer said. Murdoc rolled his eyes but stubbed out his fag on his jeans.

“Fine, let’s get this over with,” he growled. Russel led the way inside and to the elevator, 2D at his heels and Murdoc lagging behind.

“Don’t you wanna see her Muds? It’s been like, a whole week!” He did and he didn’t. Of course he wanted to see her and make sure she was alright, but that image of her spread out on the pavement… That was the worst thing he’d ever seen and he didn’t think he could handle seeing her like that again.

“It’s the 6th floor, head trauma ward,” Russel said. 2D pushed the button like an excited kid. The desire to break out the flask he’d managed to smuggle past his two nannies grew, but Murdoc resisted. He had a feeling he’d need it more soon enough. The elevator dinged and they stepped out into another, identically sterile hallway.

Again, Russel took point and walked up to the desk at the front of the ward. “Hey, we’re here to see Noodle? Doctor Cavenaw’s expecting us.” Murdoc hated hospitals. Nothing good had ever happened to him in a hospital.

The nurse looked them over—Murdoc was sure to give her a leer—and then gestured down the hall. “Doctor Cavenaw’s office is the first right, please be as quiet as possible.”

“Thank you.” Russel was always the polite one in the group. 2D tried his best but usually ended sticking his foot in his mouth.

The doctor's door was open when they arrived so they walked in. An older woman with a stern expression and even sterner hairdo was sitting behind the desk. She reminded Murdoc of an old teacher he’d had back in primary school. He shuddered at the thought.

“You must be Noodle’s family. Please, have a seat.” Murdoc took the chair closest to the door. “I wanted to speak with you before you went to see her.”

“Thanks for seeing us Doc. I’m Russel, the skinny one’s 2D, and the cranky looking one is Murdoc.”

“Hey!” Murdoc shouted in protest, but the look Russel shot him was enough to keep him glued to his chair.

“Pleasure to meet you. Now about Noodle—”

“Can we see her?” 2D interrupted, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Yes but first I need to give you a few instructions.” She seemed to be speaking straight to Murdoc for some reason. It gave him the willies.

“Noodle’s injury is not too severe. We have been monitoring her and no abnormalities with her vitals of cranial pressure have been detected. We expect that in a few days we will be able to begin the process of waking her up. But,” all three bandmates sat up a little straighter, “we aren’t out of the woods yet. So I ask you to not make any loud noises in the room, and avoid any unnecessary touching.”

“You mean we can’t touch her at all!” 2D whined. The doctor looked annoyed but answered calmly.

“If you must, holding her hand would be the limit of what I would allow. Please remember that we are trying to let her brain rest and recover.” 2D looked upset but didn’t make any more fuss.

“Thank you Doctor Cavenaw, could you point us her room?” Russel asked. The Doctor gave directions and let the band go. Murdoc was intensely glad to be free of that woman, but being out of the office meant he was one step closer to having to face up to what he’d done. All too soon they were standing outside a hospital room door with Noodle’s name on it. Murdoc felt like he was going to be sick.

“OK now remember, be quiet, no huggin’, you got that D?” Russel asked, his hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah yeah Russ I got it, let’s jus’ go in!” 2D said excitedly. Russel opened the door. They both headed in, but Murdoc hung back. He wasn’t fucking ready for this, to see his little girl connected to a hundred tubes, all banged up because of his stupid temper. Maybe if he ran now 2D wouldn’t be able to catch him and—

“Uh, Muds? You comin’? 2D asked, popping his head back through the door. Caught, Murdoc had no choice but to follow them in and face the music.

The first thing he thought was that she looked like she was sleeping. The second thing was that she looked almost exactly like Cyborg Noodle did when she was charging. There were wires coming out of everywhere and machines beeping in nearly every spare inch of floor space. He recognized a couple of them, heart rate monitors, IV’s, oxygen canisters, those were all easy to pick out. But the machine connected to the wires coming from a bandage wrapped around her head? He couldn’t even fathom what that was for.

“H-hey Noods,” 2D whispered, taking one of her hands in his. They looked so tiny and frail and Murdoc tried to focus on that but his mind felt foggy. Murdoc edged a little closer, using the singer as a buffer. From there he could see the yellow-green leftover bruising on her skin and the casts covering her arm and leg. She looked a lot like 2D had decades ago. It made her look alien and wrong in a way that made him want to run away.

“Hi there Noodle-girl,” Russel said, taking her other hand lightly. Murdoc stood stiffly, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Were they just going to stand here, looking at her? Was he supposed to say something?

“S-she looks a lot better, doesn’t she Russ?” 2D asked his voice breaking like he was holding back tears.

“The bruises are startin’ to fade.”  _ This _ was looking better? Satan she must have been a wreck when they brought her in. The image of Noodle laying on the pavement, blood leaking into her hair flashed in front of Murdoc’s vision and he shuddered.

All of this was because of him. He didn’t deserve to be here, shouldn't’ even be allowed near her or anyone else for that matter. His bandmates were whispering back and forth between each other, but he couldn’t hear it properly. It was like they were in a different room, separated by glass where Murdoc’s destruction couldn’t reach them. He took an unintentional step forward like his body wanted to be closer to his friends while his mind was warning him away. 2D noticed and turned to him, waving him forward.

“Sorry, Muds. Here you can take my spot,” he offered, taking Murdoc’s elbow and steering him to the bedside. Suddenly Murdoc was inches from Noodle, his daughter, and he froze. He could feel 2D offering him Noodle’s hand, waving it slightly, limply, and asking if Murdoc wanted to hold it. Her pinky brushed his hand ever so slightly; it was ice cold.

It was too much. He felt a wave of something wash over him, maybe panic or fear but he couldn't be sure. The only thing he was sure about was that he needed to get out of this room, this hospital,  _ he needed to get out _ . So he did.

The hospital corridors blurred into a never-ending cycle of white and blue. He was running blindly, if he’d really wanted to get out he should have stopped at the elevator but he didn’t even know where that was. His body was telling him one thing over and over again, to get away, to get further away so he couldn't break her again. There was a sign for some stairs so he followed them, coming to a brisk walk instead of running.

The stairs led down for a few flights leading to an emergency exit. Pushing through the door  Murdoc hoped he wasn’t about to trigger a hospital-wide alarm, and luckily he didn’t. Instead, he found himself around the back of the hospital, in a sort of shipping area. It was empty and quiet, so he figured it was probably a safe place to stop.

“Fuck!” Murdoc shouted, kicking the wall with the toe of his boot. It hurt but the pain didn’t really register. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

She’d felt as cold as a corpse, like one of the zombies back at Kong. That sent images of Noodle, his sweet little Noodle, rotting and mottled, her cast covered leg dragging behind her like some sort of horror movie cliche. It was so easy to imagine her like that to his horror and he rubbed his eyes until he saw stars to banish the sight.

Taking his pack of Lucky Lungs out Murdoc fumbled with a cigarette, lighting it after a couple of failed attempts. He was shaking so badly that he nearly dropped it before finally getting it settled between his lips. The first drag of hot, toxic smoke was like a balm for the soul and Murdoc sighed.

His brief respite was shattered by the shrill ring of his cell phone.  _ Murdoc is God _ blared through the speakers and he scrambled to shut it off, heart pounding. The caller ID said 2D and he hesitated over the reject call button. Right now he didn’t want to talk to anyone, but the nagging feeling in the back of his brain about the last time he ignored one of 2D’s calls made him answer.

“Hello?” he answered, even though he knew who was on the other end. 2D’s frantic voice crackled through the speaker.

“What the hell, Murdoc! You almos’ pushed me over back there!” 2D said, obviously frustrated. Murdoc let out a jittering breath.

“I didn’t mean to D, I jus’ saw her an’ I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t D,” he said, voice breaking and catching. His eyes stung and throat felt rough, but that was just the fag. At least, that’s what he hoped was the cause, and he wasn’t going to start bawling behind this fucking hospital.

“Murdoc, Jesus Christ Muds, calm down for a second. Where are you?” And he was crying now, because there was that  _ fucking  _ caring again. 2D was always looking out for him and why? Because they were family?

“I-I’m fine, 2D. I’ll m-meet you at home. Later.” He hung up and tossed the phone aside, not caring if it broke or not. He was rich and they were just things. Unimportant, breakable things. He’d give them all away, give everything away to get Noodle back. The fame, the money, the recognition? None of it was as important to him as his baby girl.

He sat against the wall beside the emergency exit, and he cried. Really cried this time, because he was stone-cold sober and there wasn’t anything to cushion the blow. The flask in his pocket burned but he wouldn’t take a sip. Wouldn’t allow himself to be numb this time. He deserved this.

He almost wished for the out-of-body feeling he’d had in Noodle’s room to come back, to push his soul out into the air and whisk it far away from here. It reminded him of when he was a little and he used to lay in his bed at night, wishing he could fly away from Stoke-on-Trent and his father. Or when the beatings got so bad it didn’t hurt anymore, didn’t feel real. None of this felt real, it was all like a dream.

Murdoc sat there for a while, tears dripping down his face, chain-smoking the rest of the pack. They’d gotten to the hospital in the mid-morning, and by the time he was able to stand again the afternoon shadows were taking over. 2D and Russel were probably long gone, and he didn’t blame them. Doing a little jig to get the blood pumping again he decided to smoke a final fag and walk around to the parking lot, rather than going through the hospital.

The walk didn’t take long, and he was just looking for a pay phone to call a taxi when he was interrupted by a shout from the hospital entrance.

“There you are you fuckin’ prick!” There was no mistaking that voice. Murdoc whirled around to see an exasperated 2D striding towards him. “I’ve been waitin’ for hours mate!”

“What?” Why the hell was 2D still here? The singer pulled out his phone and began texting rapidly.

“You! Where have you been? Russel and I were worried sick, he’s out there now drivin’ around town an’ checkin’ the pubs.”

“Pubs?” he asked, confused. What the hell was the idiot on about?

“We thought you’d run off. So we waited for a while but you too so long. Russ went out to look around an’ I stayed here in case you came back.” They’d waited for him?

“I was here, jus’ behind the hospital,” he explained. The numb feeling was coming back; stellar fucking timing. He watched as 2D traded his phone for a pack of cigarettes. He didn’t offer Murdoc one.

“An’ you couldn’t fuckin’ answer your god damn phone?” Bloody hell he was tired, how had he not noticed before. If he could he’d lay down right here and sleep for the next week. Actually, that didn’t sound like such a bad idea. The parking lot was full, but no one else was around, why couldn’t he at least sit down?

“Murdoc? Murdoc what the fuck are you doin’?” 2D asked as the bassist sat down on the pavement. Murdoc shrugged.

“Sittin’ down. I’m tired as hell.” 2D sighed and started texting again.

“Russ’ll be here soon with the car, can’t you wait?” Murdoc didn’t answer, he didn’t feel like he had anything to say. The apathy was growing, he barely had the energy to look up at 2D when he spoke, never mind answer.

2D paced back and forth between the cars as they waited, checking his phone every couple seconds and mumbling to himself. Murdoc didn’t really care either way, he was floating in a sea of emptiness and regret, barely functional. Finally when Russel pulled up 2D stopped and rounded on Murdoc again.

“Ok, Murdoc. Get in the car.” He held out a hand and Murdoc took it, allowing the lanky man to pull him up bonelessly. He let 2D lead him to the passenger side and open the door for him, while Russel looked at him from the driver seat.

“Shit Murdoc, I was lookin’ all over town for you,” he said, watching the other get in and sit down in an almost trance-like state.

“Don’t bother Russ, I haven’t been able to get anythin’ out of him,” 2D said wearily as he got in the back seat.

“Put that cigarette out D, you know I don’t like people smokin’ in the car.” The drummer cast a look over to Murdoc in the passenger seat. Murdoc looked back, empty as an old bottle of whiskey. He felt nothing as they pulled away and drove down the road.

The ride home was quiet save for the radio. Murdoc wasn’t sure what was playing but it sounded like something Russel would like. The car was cold, just like outside but Murdoc felt it distantly. Just as they pulled up in front of the house he remembered the flask in his pocket and took it out, taking a sip to see if he could feel the burn of the alcohol in his throat. He didn’t.

“For Christ sake Murdoc, can’t you stay sober for one day?” 2D snapped, reaching forward between the front seats and snatching the flask away. Murdoc didn’t flinch.

“Give him a break D, it’s been a rough day for all of us.” Russel got out and opened the passenger door, motioning for Murdoc to get out. 2D was already ahead of them, stomping towards the door and forcing his keys into the lock. It took a few minutes of bumbling about but eventually, 2D got the right keys in the lock and Murdoc got the seatbelt unclipped.

“Come on then man, hurry up. It’s cold out here,” Russel complained. Murdoc stared for a moment before following 2D inside, brushing past Russel like a ghost. The house was the same as when they’d left that morning, a tip. Russel’s cleaning hadn’t reached much more than the kitchen so far. Murdoc wondered if Russel could clean up well enough to get the security deposit back.

“Why don’t you go sit own down or somethin’ Murdoc? You want some tea?” He shrugged and wandered into the living room, sitting in the same chair he’d occupied yesterday when the other’s had questioned him. It was only after he sat down that he realized he hadn’t taken off his shoes or jacket.

Hushed voices filtered in through the kitchen. 2D and Russel were talking about something, something to do with him, but Murdoc couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was like he’d left all his caring back at the emergency exit, like they’d leaked out with those tears.

“Here, Muds, take this.” Russel held out a mug of tea and Murdoc took it, the warmth doing little to combat the cold indifference he felt. 2D followed behind with his own mug and the two of them sat on the couch, facing Murdoc.

“So you were behind the hospital that whole time?” Russel started, and Murdoc wanted to be frustrated. Were they really going to start with the third degree now?

“I was havin’ a smoke,” he answered. 2D rolled his eyes.

“For five hours?” he asked and Murdoc shrugged.

“A couple smokes.”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Russel interrupted, glaring at 2D. Murdoc stared into his tea.

“I dropped it, I think it’s broken.” Russel nodded but 2D wasn’t done.

“Why the hell did you run outta that hospital room like that? We were supposed to have a visit with Noodle an’ we barely got to see her for five minutes before we had to go chasin’ after you,” he said, voice hard. Murdoc felt a brief buzz of something that might have been guilt.

“Go easy on him D,” Russel warned.

“Why? Everythin’s always gotta be about _Murdoc_. We gotta go easy on  _ Murdoc, _ we gotta make sure  _ Murdoc’s _ ok. I’m fuckin’ sick of it!” 2D shouted at Russel. Murdoc continued to stare into his tea.

“But I thought… I thought you said we were all tryin’ to do better and—” Murdoc stuttered, trying to understand what was happening. One minute 2D was saying Murdoc was his family and they’d work things out and the next he was shouting at him.

“I don’t know what you’re tryin’ to do! We wanna help you but you won’t let us!” 2D was upset again, his voice cracking and warbling in an unpleasant way. Russel usually the steady rock of the band, looked lost.

Murdoc was shaking again, tea sloshing over the sides of his mug. It was like his body was feeling the things his brain couldn’t, and it was fighting back. “I-I-I-”

“You what, Murdoc? Tell me ‘cause I don’t think doin’ laundry an’ eatin’ at diners is gonna fix this!” 2D pushed and Murdoc broke. The mug fell from his hands on to the carpet, tea spilling everywhere and he folded over, clutching his head. 2D sat where he was, his own mug abandoned on the table, face slowly changing from angry to sad. Russel turned to 2D with a scowl.

“2D…” he sighed as he got up. “You really don’t know when to shut up do you?”

Murdoc heard heavy footsteps leave the livingroom and assumed Russ had had enough of them for one day. It didn’t matter to him anyway, he was too busy trying to breath at all through his body’s reaction to 2D’s shouting. Tears and snot dripped down his face and onto his jeans, which were clenched tightly in his fists. A low moan was vibrating in the back of his throat like a hum and Murdoc didn’t know if he could stop it if he tried. It just went on and on never ending or slowing down and he wondered for a moment if you could actually cry yourself to death.

A gentle hand on his back smoothed up and down Murdoc’s spine. The pressure was grounding. “M’sorry Murdoc, I shouldn’ta shouted at you like that,” 2D said glumly.

Murdoc looked up and grabbed on to 2D’s shirt, pulling him forward. 2D let him bury his face in his stomach, continuing to pet Murdoc’s back and hair comfortingly. The bassist could feel the warmth of 2D’s body heat calming his crying, and he breathed as deeply as he could to help. Unlike back at the hospital, he didn't feel like everything was drawing out with the tears this time. No, it was more like things were coming back and filling him up again.

“I-I saw her an’ she was  _ so cold _ D, I couldn’t—” 2D hushed him gently, rocking them back and forth a little.

“I know, I’m sorry Muds.” He heard approaching footsteps and pulled back from the singer, only to see Russel standing with blankets and pizza boxes.

“I figured after the day we had that maybe we could just chill out and watch movies of some shit. And eat all this leftover pizza since you idiots ordered more yesterday.” Murdoc laughed wetly and wiped his eyes. Once a month Noodle would force them to all get together for a living room sleepover, this looked to be about the same.

“What movie did you grab Rus?” 2D asked and Russel held up a DVD box.

“I found  _ Labyrinth _ in one of my moving boxes the other day,” he answered and Murdoc laughed again. It felt more real this time.

“Nothin’ like David Bowie’s cock waving around in Spandex to cheer a guy up, right?” he chuckled and 2D gave him a light shove.

“You old perv,” he teased as Russel tossed them blankets and set up the DVD player. 2D stared at the blankets for a second before seeming to make a decision. “Shift over Muds, I wanna sit with you.”

Murdoc did and since 2D was a skinny bastard he managed to fit with a little wiggling. Secretly he was glad for the closeness and excuse to touch the other man. If Russel thought the closeness of his two bandmates was weird, he didn’t say anything.

They started up the movie and divvied out the pizza. Murdoc picked at a piece for a little while before 2D gave him a look and he finally started eating. By the time David Bowie was prancing about in his tights and fur on screen Murdoc had downed three slices and was leaning heavily on 2D, singing along to _Dance Magic Dance_.

The movie ended but none of the men wanted to go their separate way so they turned on the TV and argued over what to watch for a couple hours. They settled on cooking shows, or more accurately, Russel had the remote and wanted to watch cooking shows. 2D whined about it but Murdoc didn’t say much, he wasn’t really watching anymore anyways.


	12. Massage

When Russel woke up the next morning he was stiff but happy. They should really replace that sofa with something better if they were going to be having campouts in the living room. With a groan he sat up and brushed pizza crumbs from the blankets, looking over at the armchair where 2D and Murdoc had been the night before.

And… they were both still there, crammed into the chair and wrapped around each other like two octopi. It was almost sweet if you could look past the discarded pizza crusts and drool. Murdoc was wrapped up on 2D’s arms, his face pressed firmly between the sofa and 2D’s shoulder. The singer was nearly horizontal on the chair, his arms around Murdoc and his legs dangling over the arms of the chair. He was also the main source of the drool. Russel smiled.

Those two idiots had been dancing around each other for  _ years _ . Russel had watched the way 2D had pinned over the bassist when the band first got together all the way through Demon Dayz, and he’d watched Murdoc check out the singer  _ constantly _ . He’d thought that something might have happened between them during Plastic Beach, but from what he’d been told Murdoc had been even worse than usual out there. After that, the bassist and the singer seemed to drift apart, and Russel thought that was that. Until a few days ago.

They must have thought he wasn’t home. Either that or they didn’t care, but he would have had to be deaf not to hear them going at it like rabbits. Well, it was more the two of them arguing in the hall outside his room and then going at it like rabbits, but either way, they weren't subtle. He’d waited until they stopped and left then went on a walk to give them the illusion that he hadn’t been home, but he had been.

It made the interactions between them even weirder if anything. 2D kept swinging between comforting and angry, friendly and hostile. Murdoc seemed more clingy with the singer, shadowing him and being almost nice at times. Russel wanted to stay out of it for the most part and let them sort it out for themselves, but he’d started noticing things that forced him to step in. Like 2D getting upset and shouting, and Murdoc freezing up again and again. Not to mention Murdoc’s obviously declining mental health.

Deciding to give them some privacy he got up quietly, made himself a quick breakfast, and headed upstairs. At least with them both asleep down there he'd get some peace and quiet for once.

* * *

 

2D was woken up by the feeling of something moving around on top of him. It felt a little like Katsu at first and he was going to try to push the cat off when he cracked an eye open and saw that it was actually Murdoc. The other man was curled up tightly in 2D’s arms, snoring away, his whistling breath making the most adorable little catching sounds at the end of each exhale. 2D raised a hand to smooth the other man’s fringe and lightly caress his brow. He was frowning in his sleep.

It wasn’t long before 2D’s petting woke the bassist up. He scrunched his nose in distaste for a moment before burrowing further into Stu’s shoulder. 2D thought it might have been the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

“G’morning Muds,” he murmured and Murdoc shook his head against his collarbone.

“S’too early to be good,” he mumbled. 2D laughed lightly and continued his petting. Murdoc purred. “That feels nice.”

They stayed like that for a little while, 2D running his hands through and against  Murdoc’s hair and Murdoc nuzzling against the singer's neck. Eventually though, one of them shifted enough that Murdoc had to prop himself up or crush poor 2D and they came face to face. 2D wanted to ask how he was feeling, maybe apologize again for shouting yesterday, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward slightly and gently connected their lips.

It was a chaste kiss, no tongues or biting. It lasted no more than three seconds but to 2D if felt like an eternity. This was their first kiss without the intention of sex, the first kiss that he hadn’t wanted to lead to sex. And maybe it was because he was still a little groggy from sleep or because a migraine was coming on but 2D felt good about it.

“What was that for?” Murdoc asked quietly. 2D smirked and gave him another perk.

“No reason, jus’ felt like it I guess,” 2D said, and it was the truth. Murdoc chuckled.

“Poof,” the bassist said accusingly, sitting up to stretch. 2D now free of Murdoc’s weight did the same.

“Says the man who takes dick like he was born to.” Murdoc swatted at him playfully and 2D tried to dodge. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the most graceful and he overcorrected, throwing them both off the chair and onto the floor in a laughing and swearing.

“Ow, fuck D, I think I broke somthin’,” Murdoc complained as he extracted himself from their tangle of limbs. 2D didn’t bother moving until the other man was free, knowing he’d probably just muck things up more.

“Stop whinging Muds, you’re fine.” 2D stood as well and picked up the blankets that had fallen with them, setting them on the chair. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Like I jus’ slept in an armchair and then fell offa’ one,” Murdoc responded. 2D frowned and reached out, firmly grasping his arm.

“You know what I mean Muds,” he pushed. He fully expected Murdoc to balk like usual, to brush him off, but was pleasantly surprised when the other man made hesitant eye contact.

“I’m not gonna lie and say I feel amazing, but,” Murdoc put a hand over 2D’s and the singer's heart thumped a bit faster, “for now I think I’m alrigh’.”

A smile he couldn’t suppress stretched across his face. “Thanks for tellin’ me Murdoc.”

“Don’t mention it, really.” They were standing there, his hand on Murdoc’s arm, their fingers touching. 2D was about to step closer when he heard footsteps outside the doorway and the two sprung apart.

“Are you guys finally awake? Thought you might sleep the whole damn day,” Russel commented on his way to the kitchen.

“S’cause you kept us up all night with that damn Hell’s Kitchen special. No one needs to see that much Gordon Ramsay in one day Russ,” Murdoc griped, following him in. 2D went as well, the thought of a good cup of tea pulling him towards the kettle.

“What you don’t fancy old English men who’re as loid as you then?” he teased. Murdoc cast him a knowing glance and smirked.

“I prefer my men to have… more pleasant tones,” the bassist answered blithely and Russel snorted.

“That’s hella gay Murdoc, even for you,” the drummer quipped and Murdoc tossed a loose tea bag from the dining table at him.

“Oh fuck off, like you’re not bent yourself,” the bassist said, still looking at 2D. Stu felt something warm settle in his chest at the smile he received.

“Never said I wasn’t, Gorillaz is probably as queer as they come. D’you remember when Noodle had that crush on Natalie Portman?” Russel asked. It took a minute but 2D eventually remembered with a smile.

“Oh yeah! She was so hopelessly in love an’ kept denyin’ it,” he reminisced. That had been back during Demon Dayz, at Kong. 2D missed those times. He struggled to fill the kettle for a few moments.

“It was because of Star Wars, I think,” Murdoc chimed in, helping 2D with the kettle. Together they got 3 mugs ready and 2D jerked his head in Russel’s direction.

“You want some tea Russ?” he asked, pouring his and Murdoc’s. Russel shook his head, grabbing a can of pop from the fridge.

“Nah man, I’m goin’ out for a bit. Text me if you need me.”

“Seeya Russ,” Murdoc called over his shoulder as he fussed with the toaster. When the front door closed he commented. “He was in a bit of a rush wasn’t he?”

“And he’d been goin’ out a lot. Maybe he’d seein’ someone?” 2D said, pausing to imagine Russel dating anybody. “I don’t think I’ve seen him date anyone, like ever.”

Murdoc shrugged and they fell into a companionable silence. 2D fixed the tea and set it on the table while Murdoc buttered toast and did the same. They shared the toast and 2D showed Murdoc some memes on his phone. He didn’t think that Murdoc really understood them that well but they made him laugh so Stu didn’t mind. They even did the dishes when they were done, knowing that if they ruined Russel’s newly cleaned kitchen they’d be dead men.

“So what’d you wanna do today Muds? We never did get to work on that song,” 2D said, wiping his soapy hands on his shirt. He really hoped Murdoc wanted to work on the song, as much as he liked the sex he was starting to feel creative withdrawal.

“Sounds alright to me, jus’ let me take a shower and grab my bass yeah?”  They split up and 2D decided to get changed and clean up his room a little. Normally he wouldn’t give a shit about Murdoc seeing his room in its natural state, but he figured it couldn’t hurt.

About half an hour later Murdoc wandered in, hair dripping and bass in hand. As usual, he’d forgone a shirt and 2D tried not to ogle his bare chest too much.

“Alrigh' then Stu?” the bassist asked, sitting on the bed and resting the bass in his lap. 2D smiled and gestured to the end of the bed.

“There’s an amp under all that junk if you need it,” he said. Murdoc eyed the pile of clothes, keyboard parts, and wires.

"Cheers mate,” he drawled, frowning a little. It took a few minutes to free the amp but eventually they were settled and ready to play.

“OK so jus’ jump in whenever you feel like it,” 2D instructed. Over the last couple decades, they’d had so many practices and brainstorming sessions that he didn’t feel the need to tell Murdoc what to do. He knew the bassist was more than capable of joining in.

They jammed for a while, stopping and starting to work out the kinks and adjust lyrics here and there. It was almost like before Kong when they were writing their first album, just the two of them. Back then they’d work so well together, like actual mates and 2D felt a rush of happiness at the realization things were close to being like that again.

After a couple hours focusing on one song 2D sat back and stretched. “Thanks, Muds, I think it’s really coming together.”

Murdoc hummed. “You got anything else you’re working on?” 2D shook his head sadly.

“Not really, a lot of what I had went into The Fall so…”

“No worries, we’ve still got the stuff for Humanz in the works anyways,” Murdoc answered, laying El Diablo on the bed and laying back. “I hope Noodle’s out of the hospital and back to normal in time to release the album on time.”

2D felt a flash of annoyance. Was Murdoc really thinking about the album while Noodle was sick? But then he thought back to last night, how Murdoc had just broken down and he took a deep breath.

“Hopefully mate. Lookin’ forward to group practice again,” he said instead of getting angry. Murdoc sighed and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry I ruined your visit yesterday,” he mumbled eventually. 2D got up and lay beside him on the bed, their feet bumping where they hung over the side. 

“It’s ok Murdoc, I understand now. I’m sorry I got so mad.” He toyed with the hem of his shirt idly. “I wasn’t thinkin’ about how that was your first time seein’ her since, or how you felt about it.”

Murdoc shifted and their arms touched lightly. “I didn’t really know either until I was there.”

“But today is better, yeah?” 2D asked, hoping to keep their conversation positive. Murdoc turned his head to Stu and gave a sort of half smile, one tooth poking out. It made 2D want to make high-pitched squealing noises.

“Yeah mate, today’s been pretty good so far,” Murdoc smirked. 2D grinned back and rolled on his side, singing one arm over Murdoc’s waist.

“Wanna make it even better?” Sure he’d wanted to focus on music before, but they were done now and Murdoc was still shirtless, laying in his bed. Who could blame him for having less than pure thoughts?

“Mmmh, what’d you have in mind, Stu-Pot.” 2D was coming to love that nickname, though maybe just from Murdoc. He appreciated it more than ‘dullard’ at least. He thought for a bit before leaping up.

“Take your trousers off, get on the bed proper, an’ turnover,” he instructed, running to the bathroom to find what he was looking for. With a triumphant shout he hurried back to the bedroom to find Murdoc splayed out, his face buried in the pillows.

“What’ve you got in store for me then?” 2D got onto the bed and sat over Murdoc’s ass. The bassist wigged suggestively, but 2D ignore him.

“Jus’ relax Muds.” He took the little bottle of massage oil and poured some on his hands, warming it up. Slowly he lowered his hands to Murdoc’s shoulders and worked the oil over them and down his back. Murdoc shivered a little and looked over his shoulder.

“A massage?”  2D nodded and began to press against clusters of hard muscles, working them in firm concentric circles. “Oh mate… you’re good at this.”

2D felt a little bit of pride and he chuckled. “I’ve had a couple of birds ask me to do it before, so I’ve had lotsa practice.”

“I can tell,” Murdoc sighed, his eyes slipping closed. 2D continued to work the oil in, making sure to target any knots of kinks he felt. Murdoc was putty under his hands, slack and quiet save for the occasional groan. When he’d done what he could with his shoulders, 2D moved further down, pressing against his lower back and barely grazing his arse. The bassist’s hips twitched.

“You like that?” 2D asked, leaning down to whisper in Murdoc’s ear. His answer was a quiet whine and the gentle push of hips against hands. 2D indulged him and lowered his grasp to rub at the soft flesh. “You want more?”

“Yes please,” Murdoc murmured. The singer poured more oil into his hands and spread them liberally over each cheek. He allowed his fingers to dip a little between then, just barely grazing the tender skin between them in a teasing back and forward movement. Murdoc was getting worked up he could tell. He was breathing heavily, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“You’re gorgeous like this, you know that Murdoc?” 2D said, allowing his fingers to linger over the bassist's hole for just a moment. “Very handsome.”

“Sod off and fuck me you flatterer,” Murdoc groused, and Stu laughed.

“Who said I was gonna fuck you Muds?” he asked and Murdoc groaned.

“Well your fingers are gettin’ mighty friendly if you aren’t.” Sliding down to sit over Murdoc’s calves he nuzzled the other man’s firm arse, giving it a light bite. Another reason 2D liked giving massages, he’d bought oil that had a nice taste.

Murdoc began shifting again but 2D wasn’t having it. Using his hands to spread him, Stu leaned in a gave one long lick to Murdoc’s entrance. The effect was immediate.

“O-Oh fuck! Fuck yes Stu!” 2D grinned against the sensitive flesh and pressed on, snaking his tongue in and out of the bassist with little teasing flicks. Murdoc was coming absolutely undone under him, thrashing around and making the most debauched sounds. Taking pity on him 2D reached around and grasped the other’s prick, giving it gentle strokes in time with the movements of his tongue.

“Deeeeeeee,” Murdoc keened, his hips trying to both push back against the tongue inside him and the hand giving him rhythmic squeezes in front. The few times they’d fucked 2D had never seen Murdoc so breathless and out of control. It made him want to double down and make the bassist fall apart. In the end, he didn’t have to, because as soon as the thought passed through his mind, Murdoc was coming

“Well that was quick,” Stu teased, wiping his hand off on the comforter. Murdoc responded by raising his middle finger. “Aw don’t be like that.” He crawled up to lay down beside the bassist, a saucy grin on his face.

“Satan D,” he panted. “That felt bloody amazing.”

2D winked. “I do my best.” The other man took a few minutes to catch his breath before turning onto his side.

“D’you want me to…” Murdoc made a crude jerking off motion and 2D shook his head.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he replied, snaking his arms around the bassist and pulling him close. Murdoc didn’t resist, in fact he seemed glad to be pulled in. 2D would have never pinned the other for a cuddler, but here they were.

Things were quiet between them for a while. 2D was enjoying the feeling of Murdoc in his arms, of having someone to hold on to. It felt good, being like this. Maybe those TV shows had had the right idea about sex for stress relief or whatever. Murdoc seemed happier at least, so that was good.

“Hey, D?” Murdoc said gently. Stu made a questioning noise but otherwise waited for the bassist to speak up. He sounded a little worried, which made 2D uneasy. “What’s uh, what’s goin’ on with us. Between us, I mean.”

“Whaddaya mean? We’re mates.” A little bit of anxiety crept into his voice as he answered. Today had been good but Murdoc was acting different, more open maybe? And now he was asking weird questions.

“I mean yeah, we’re mates. Best mates! But uh,” Murdoc paused and leaned back a little so he could look at 2D’s face, “you know what nevermind.”

2D felt a sense of relief but also something close to disappointment. Still, he didn’t push for more answers and instead smirked. ‘What did I eat you out so good you can’t think?”

Murdoc’s face went red and he shoved 2D’s chest, hard. “In your dreams, kid. I do need another shower, thanks to you.”

2D laughed, God he’d been doing that a lot today, and rolled off the bed with his hand out. Murdoc took it and let himself be hauled out of the bed. “Alrigh’ I could use one too. Shall we?”


	13. Date

The next two days passed much the same as the one after the day at the hospital. 2D and Murdoc practised music, hung out, and generally goofed off together. Sometimes they fucked, but mostly they just enjoyed each other's company. Russel was around, but he seemed to be going out more and the other two were too busy with each other to question it. 

Friday morning, three days after the hospital visit, they were all crowded around the breakfast table debating which of their albums would win in a fight when Russel’s phone rang. Murdoc paused mid-laugh to glance at it and saw the caller was Dr. Cavenaw. Russel saw as well and quickly answered.

“Russel Hobbs speakin’. Yes. Yes thank you. I understand. Yes, OK, see you then.” As quick as the conversation began it ended, and Russel sighed.

“Who was that Russ?” 2D asked with his mouth full of the pancakes they’d made. Murdoc didn’t say anything but he waited with bated breath, the good morning he’d been having taking a sharp downward spike.

“That was Noodle’s doctor. She said that they started the process of wakin’ her up yesterday and she’s been showin’ some good signs. She also said we could come back tomorrow and try to help by takin’ to her and stuff, get her to wake up on her own,” he explained. 2D jumped out of his chair and pumped a fist in the air. Murdoc felt sick.

“Muds did you hear that? Noodles gonna wake up soon! We can go see here again!” Murdoc watched him jump around. Satan, what he wouldn’t give to just feel happiness at the idea of Noodle waking up. Because he was happy, he was fucking ecstatic that his baby girl was going to wake up and get back to normal but the looming dread of what might happen after hung over him like a noose.

“Calm down D, before you go and hurt yourself,” Russel warned. Murdoc stood and walked to the fridge, grabbing two bears and tossing one to the singer. The younger barely caught it, and Russel raised an eyebrow.

“Guys its ten in the morning.”

“It’s celebratory,” Murdoc snapped, draining half the can in one go. 2D cracked his open and took a sip as Russel shrugged.

“Right well, you two have fun with that.” Russel cleared his plate and put it in the sink, heading off to his room. Murdoc watched him go as he opened another beer.

“Isn’t it great Murdoc, Noodles gonna be awake soon,” 2D sighed happily, spinning in circles in the middle of the kitchen. He rounded on Murdoc with a big smile, which slowly faded as he saw the look on the bassist’s face. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Yeah mate, I am. I promise it’s jus’...” he trailed off with a shrug. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, why couldn’t he just be happy that Noodle was alive and going to be ok? For some reason, his brain wouldn’t allow him to just be happy instead of worrying about what might happen. 

“You’re still worried she’s gonna hate you.” 2D hit the nail on the head and Murdoc flinched. There was no doubt in his mind the guitarist would want nothing to do with him once she was up and kicking again. Then he’d be back to having nothing; no band, no fame, and certainly no family.

“I’ve fucked up too many timed Stu, I don’t see how she could forgive me.” It’d be easier to bite the bullet and get it over with, leave before she could tell him to. It would hurt less.

“I’ve forgiven you, haven’t I?” The singer asked and Murdoc paused.

“Actually, you’ve never said you have,” he said slowly. Now it was 2D’s turn to pause for a second. He seemed to be thinking rather hard because he was doing that little thing with his tongue, the one where he stuck it in and out between his missing teeth. Murdoc had found it annoying, but now it was almost endearing.

He must have come to a conclusion because he nodded his head and strode towards the Satanist with a look of determination. Coming to stand directly in front of Murdoc 2D placed his hands on the shorter man’s shoulders.

“Murdoc, I forgive you,” he said, slowly and clearly, looking right into the bassist's eyes. A brief silence, a blink from the bassist, and suddenly Murdoc found himself in a crushing embrace. He wasn’t sure if he pulled Stu in, or if Stu pulled him in, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered what the sense of relief he felt at those three words, words that until this morning he didn’t even really think he needed to hear.

“I forgive you Muds, but I dunno if I’m gonna be able to forgive you if you crush the life outta me,” 2D joked. Murdoc barked a laugh and let him go, a little embarrassed but too high on endorphins to care.

“Sorry, mate, sorry,” he chuckled as he let go, giving 2D’s arm a friendly pat. He felt better, lighter, somehow. Like maybe he  _ should _ be celebrating.

They were still quite close together, so it wasn’t hard for Murdoc to lean in and plant a kiss on Stuart's lips. The singer kissed back willingly, openly. There was a moment, when their tongues touched briefly, where Murdoc thought about deepening the kiss, pushing 2D against the counter, and letting the taller man take him right there in the kitchen. He thought about how good it would feel, to ride this wave of relief and happiness right into something more carnal.

And he didn’t.

Instead, he pulled back, finished the kiss with a breathy laugh and let the singer go. 2D seemed reluctant but stepped back and Murdoc was grateful. If the singer had kept going, or been insistent he wasn’t sure if he had the willpower to keep thing PG.

“Heh, you’re a pretty aggressive hugger, aren’t you Muds?” 2D teased, but Murdoc was in too much of a good mood to snap back. Instead, he chuckled and sipped the beer he’d managed to hold on to during their moment. “So what are your plans for today?”

“The same as the last couple days?” he asked, feeling like 2D was going somewhere with his questions. His assumption turned out to be correct when 2D shook his head and scolded him.

“Murdoc we can’t jus’ keep doin’ the same thing every day. I don’t think we’ve been outside since Monday!” The bassist didn't really see the problem with that but gestured for Stu to continue.

“So I  was thinkin’ we could go out an’ do some shoppin’? Maybe get a few gifts for Noodle to make her room feel homier.” Despite still feeling nervous about seeing Noodle tomorrow, Murdoc couldn’t help but agree.

“Fine, we’ll go out. Go ask Russ if he wants to come while I get ready.” 2D scampered out of the kitchen excitedly as Murdoc watched on. Sometimes he swore the other was more a child than a 40-year-old man.

* * *

 

Russel declined the offer to go out, which 2D thought was weird since going out had been all the drummer had done in the last week. He tried to convince him, but Russel had just shaken his head with a funny smirk.

“Nah, you and Murdoc go have fun together,” was all he had said before shooing 2D out of his room. The singer was a little disappointed but figured Russ had his own plans so he got himself ready to meet Murdoc downstairs.

Shuffling into the front hall, 2D picked out a pair of chucks and sat on the steps. When he’d asked Murdoc to go out he hadn’t really had a plan. As much as he enjoyed working on music and shagging, he didn’t want to spend another day cooped up in the house. Getting gifts for Noodle was just an excuse to get out and about. Besides, it would be good for Murdoc to get some fresh air. The bassist had been in better spirits over the last few days but 2D was still keeping an eye on him.

He was still worried that the other might do something he’d regret. At times like then, when they were separated, the fear he’d felt up on the roof would come back and he’d have to force himself not to go barreling through the house looking for his mate. They hadn’t talked about any of that since Monday, mostly because 2D didn’t know what to say.

“Alright, D?” Murdoc asked, stomping down the stairs in his Cuban heels and startling the singer. He was quite bundled up, with a sweater, scarf, and leather gloves. 2D looked down at his own t-shirt and jeans. “You’re gonna want to grab a jacket, mate.”

“Is it cold out?” he asked, trying to remember what the weather had been like the last time they went outside. A side effect of the multiple brain injuries was that his memory was a bit shit.

“D it’s the end of September, of course it’s cold. Go get a jacket,” Murdoc sighed. “I'll go start the car.”

After fighting through the hall closet and wrestling his fall jacket from the grips of a particularly feisty umbrella stand 2D walked outside and got in the passenger seat. Murdoc hadn’t been drinking as much recently, so he wasn’t too worried about the bassist driving them around.

“So, where to then?” Murdoc asked as he sat down. 2D thought for a few minutes before an idea hit him.

“Why don’t we head downtown and check out the music shops, see if we can find any cool old records?” When he was younger he loved browsing through the shops with his mates looking for interesting records.

“Sounds good mate,” Murdoc agreed and they were on their way. They weren’t too far from the downtown core, they probably could have taken the train instead but there was always the chance of being recognized out in public and 2D didn’t really want to risk it. Not with all the press about Noodle.

When they got downtown they picked out a parking space and wandered towards the shops. Murdoc was chattering on about something on one of his soap operas, so 2D wasn’t paying attention other than the hum or nod occasionally. It was a lot busier than he’d expected, with people crowding the storefronts and pushing along the walkways.

“So  _ then  _  he says that  _ she _ was the one who bought the gun--Stu can you please try to keep up?” Murdoc griped. He didn’t seem to be having trouble moving through the crowds despite being almost a head shorter.

“I’m tryin’ Muds but people keep pushin’ me!” he whimpered as another person shouldered him. Murdoc shot him a frustrated look, then held out his hand.

“Come on, you git,” he huffed. 2D took his gloved hand and let Muroc lead him through the crowds. People moved out of the way for Murdoc, probably because he was so cranky looking, and 2D had a much easier time getting along with Murdoc’s hand in his.

They stopped at a couple of the more popular and mainstream music stores along the way, having a good laugh when they came across a poster of Gorillaz for sale in one. 2D even convinced Murdoc to take a selfie with the selection of Gorillaz albums and CDs under the pretence that Noodle would enjoy it. He knew, secretly, that Murdoc got a kick out of seeing all the Gorillaz stuff on sale.

Eventually, they got to a quieter part of downtown off the beaten track, though Stu kept a tight grip on Murdoc just the same. The shops down that end had more to the stuff they wanted to look through and they spent a good amount of time combing through the piles and piles of records comparing finds.

“I don’t think we have this one, do we Muds?” 2D asked, holding up a copy of  _ A Night at the Opera. _ Murdoc scoffed.

“It’s Queen, D.  _ Of course _ we have that one.” 2D giggled and put the album aside. Murdoc had an absolutely astonishing amount of records buried away in his room that the band had collected over the years.

“M’glad you can remember Muds. My brain’s like a siv,” he lamented, continuing to dig through the piles. Occasionally he would hold up an album for Murdoc’s consideration, but they mostly explored in silence. At one point Murdoc disappeared for a little and that now-familiar feeling returned, but 2D found him skulking around the poster and memorabilia section. They accumulated a good pile of music after and eventually left the shops.

“D’you want to get somethin’ to eat Murdoc?” 2D asked as they walked back down the street. The bassist had also been a lot better about eating as well, but Stu was getting tired of pizza and leftovers.

“If you want, I don’t care,” he answered, which wasn’t the answer 2D was looking for but it was good enough. He looked around the street for somewhere interesting and spotted a little Mexican place that looked quite cozy.

“Oh! Let’s go there!” he exclaimed excitedly and Murdoc shrugged. 2D grasped the bassist hand again and led him across the street and into the little restaurant. Inside was warm and colourful and surprisingly empty.

“Table for two please!” he said to the waitress with a big smile. She led them to a booth and left them with menus.

“Muds, these menus are in Spanish. I dunno Spanish!” he fretted. Murdoc rolled his eyes and pointed to the main section.

“Pick somethin’ here that has a picture you like an’ I’ll tell you what it is,” he instructed, looking over the menu himself.

“You can speak Spanish?” 2D gaped, eyes wide. Murdoc nodded.

“Picked it up in prison. S’not so hard after you’ve got the basics. Or if you’ve got a big guy named Lenny shouting it at you every day.” 2D stared in awe for a moment, partially at how casual Murdoc was being but also because he’d had no idea. How do you live with someone all that time and not know they can speak another language. He eventually pulled himself away from watching Murdoc read the options and looked down.

“What about this?” he asked pointing to something completely random on the page. Murdoc looked over, standing in his seat a little to see over the table. HIs hair fell into his face and 2D got distracted by the way it made his deep-set eyes even more noticeable.

“ _ Pollo Picado _ , that’s chicken with peppers and tomato sauce. Sounds good,” 2D barely heard a word the Satanist said, too busy admiring the way Murdoc’s lips curled around the foreign language.

“W-what are you gonna have?” 2D stuttered, hiding his flush behind a glass of water.

“The  _ carnitas _ sounds good.” 2D shivered.

“Good, good.” They ordered when the waitress came back, or rather Murdoc ordered because 2D couldn’t pronounce the food names despite hearing Murdoc say them before.

“So, did you find anythin’ cool?” 2D asked once they were alone again. Murdoc pulled his bags up from the floor and rifled through them for a bit before sighing.

“Not really, didn’t see any albums that weren’t shit or that we don’t already have. I uh, I did find these though. Thought you might like them.” He pulled out a smaller bag and handed it over to the singer, face just the slightest bit red. 2D peaked inside the bag warily--you could never tell what Murdoc might find--and smiled.

Inside were four keychains, each one moulded to look like a member of Gorillaz. They were all in the phase one style, little Noodle with her helmet, Russ with that yellow hat from the Clint Eastwood video, Murdoc with his base, and 2D signing into a little model microphone. He held them gently, turning each over in his hands.

“Stupid I know, I shouldn’t of--” 2D shushed him and pulled out his keys, clipping the 2D one to them.

“They’re adorable Muds! I’m gonna call this lil’ guy Tiny 2D!” He jangled the keys around excitedly. Murdoc still looked embarrassed but held his hand out for the other three keychains, clipping the Murdoc to his own keys.

“I guess this is Mini Murdoc then?” he asked, holding the keychain up to eye level. “I think they made me too short.”

“I think it looks jus’ right,” 2D ventured. Murdoc scowled and put the keys down as their food. Starving from all the walking around 2D dug in immediately. Murdoc poked at his with an uneasy look before 2D raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not what you wanted?” Murdoc looked up at him, then back at the food.

“No,  _ carnitas _ is one of my favourites, but…” he loaded one of the soft taco shells with meat and toppings, “I haven’t really had much of an appetite recently.”

“I’ve noticed,” 2D garbled through a mouthful of chicken and peppers. He watched Murdoc take a bite and felt a little better. Not wanting this to go like the diner, where he’d upset Murdoc so much he didn’t eat anything, 2D decided to focus on his own meal until the other was done.

They finished and paid, wandering back out onto the street. “Other than the keychains we didn’t buy anything for Noodle, did we?” 2D asked as they walked.

“No, but we could stop and get her some flowers or somethin’. Isn’t that what people bring to hospitals?” Murdoc said, leading them back towards the car. “I think there was a florist near where we parked.”

2D linked their hands again and allowed the bassist to lead the way. “Gosh, I’m glad I brought you Muds, you’re a lot smarter about this stuff than I am.”

There wasn’t much of a crowd at the florist so they were able to walk in and check out the flowers right away. 2D pulled them from bouquets to arrangements, oohing and ahhing the entire time. He’d never had much of a green thumb--in fact, he managed to kill an air plant once--so he didn’t really know what to get. Murdoc looked board.

“Jeeze Murdoc, I didn’t know there were so many different types of flowers in the whole world!” he said happily.

“Just pick something already Faceache, it doesn’t matter what,” Murdoc said, pointing to some potted plants. “Those look fine and they won’t die in a couple of days.”

“Good idea, let’s get one of those then,” Stu agreed picking up a little pot filled with white and pink clusters of flowers. Didn’t different flowers have different meanings? He wondered what those ones meant. 

Murdoc was getting fidgety, so they checked out quickly and headed back to the car. 2D cradled the little potted plant in his hands the whole way, protecting it from the cold and wind. They each hopped into their seats hastily, the setting sun bringing colder temperatures.

“Bloody hell it’s freezin’, it wasn’t this fuckin’ cold the other day!” Murdoc groused as he navigated the Sunday afternoon traffic. The heating in the car was slow to warm up and 2D fretted over the plant.

“Can’t you drive faster? The florist said if the flowers get too cold they’ll die,” he wailed, hugging the pot to his chest.

“They’re goin’ to die if you crush them to death D,” Murdoc said, eyeing the poor plant. “I’m drivin’ as fast as I can.” 2D continued to fuss over the plant until they pulled into the driveway, where he sprinted inside.

“Oi! You can’t leave me with all the bags you sod,” Murdoc shouted, but 2D ignored him and continued inside. He rushed through into the kitchen to give the flower a drink of water, hoping that would be enough to prevent it from dying. He paused a moment to pet the dainty flowers before the slamming of the front door startled him.

“Oh it’s fiiiiiine, jus’ leave ol’Murdoc with all the bags.” 2D could hear Murdoc complaining from the foyer. Guiltily he walked back to the front hall to help.

“Sorry Muds, I was jus’ so worried about the flowers,” Stu apologized as he took some of the bags Murdoc was holding.

“Whatever, Faceache,” Murdoc grumbled, but he didn’t sound too put-out.

2D shuffled his feet a little as he watched Murdoc stretch out the kinks in his arms and back from dragging the bags inside. He could see the muscle of Murdoc’s back and shoulders twisting and bunching under his shirt and it made his face heat up just a bit.

“I-I had a good time today, Muds,” he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Murdoc turned to the singer and paused. 2D stared down at his shoes feeling oddly embarrassed. “Yeah, today wasn’t so awful.”

2D had been around Murdoc long enough to know what the bassist meant. The urge to hug the shorter man was strong, and 2D decided to take his chances and step into Murdoc’s space, arms open. He half expected Murdoc to push him away, but was pleasantly surprised when the other man allowed him to wrap him up in a hug. Murdoc smelled like shampoo and cigarettes and sweat. 2D nuzzled into his hair slightly, tightening his hold and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Murdoc’s arms wrap around his middle loosely, returning the hug. They haven't hugged like this in well, ever. He could feel the bassist sigh against his collar as 2D began to sway them side to side gently, their hug morphing into something closer to an embrace.

Feeling bold, 2D decided to try something he’d been thinking about for a while. Slowly removing one of his hands from Murdoc’s back he brought it up to his hair and gently ran his fingers through. The reaction was immediate. Murdoc sagged with a sigh, tightening his arms around Stu’s waist. 2D’s confidence surged and he continued to pet and ruffle the bassist hair as much as he wanted. It was softer than he expected--Murdoc wasn’t a stickler for good hygiene normally--and 2D wondered at the feeling between his fingers.

“Mmmmm,” Murdoc moaned. 2D continued to rub at that particular spot and he could feel the other man relaxing in his hold. He could feel the potential for sex vibrating between them, Murdoc was probably in the right headspace to agree to almost anything 2D wanted. But he didn’t really want to, for the moment he was enjoying making the other man feel good. Making Murdoc feel good made 2D feel good, so why not indulge a little?

Eventually, they separated when 2D realized they’d been standing in the foyer for a significant amount of time. He smiled down at Murdoc, who was still standing quite close.

“Thanks for the hug, Muds,” he said and the older man smiled.

“Don’t mention it, you can pay me back by hauling all those bags upstairs,” Murdoc said, winking. 2D groaned but didn’t make too much of a fuss.

“I guess it’s only fair,” he admitted, leaning down to grab a couple bags. Unlike Murdoc he wasn’t stupid enough to try and carry all of them at once. Murdoc nodded and left the front hall, probably to go get a drink, and 2D got to work on moving all the bags. Even after when he was done, tired, sweaty, and a little sore, he still thought today had been a really good day.


	14. Bath

After 2D had slugged all the bags upstairs and Murdoc had gotten sufficiently tipsy off the craft beer he found in the fridge they bumped into each other going opposite ways on the stairs. Murdoc was trying to get up to his room to continue drinking the bottle of whiskey he’d grabbed, and 2D was, well, doing whatever 2D did when he wasn’t hanging around Murdoc. 

“Oh, there you are Muds,” the idiot said, smiling. Murdoc rolled his eyes and pushed past him. “What are you doin’?”

“Drinkin’,” Murdoc called back over his shoulder. He thought for a moment that maybe 2D would leave it at that and let him get some alone time, but then he heard the singer thumping the rest of the way up the stairs.

“Can I join you?” 2D asked. Murdoc shrugged and walked into his bedroom.

“You’re goin’ to whether I say yes or not, right?” he said, a hint of frustration in his voice. The last couple of days with D had been good. When they weren’t fucking 2D had managed to not be an annoying bellend, and in return, Murdoc kept his asshole behaviour to a minimum. He would even admit that he’d had some fun with the singer. But Murdoc had always been a deeply private person and being watched 24/7 was starting to get to him.

“I guess yeah, but if you want I’ll keep real quiet. You won’t even know I’m there,” 2D answered, following him inside. Murdoc sat on the bed and drank straight from the bottle in his hand.

“Do whatever you want, I don’t care as long as you’re not in my face.” He really didn’t, as long as 2D didn’t both him.

“Aw, don’t be like that Murdoc, we had fun today didn’t we?” Stu whined like Murdoc knew he would. The younger man was oblivious to Murdoc’s shift in mood like he was to most things.

“We did, butI’m gettin’ real tired of you trailing along after me all the time,” he explained. 2D looked hurt and Murdoc felt niggling guilt.

“I jus’ wanna make sure you’re OK, Muds,” 2D trailed off and Murdoc sighed again. He didn’t have the energy to argue with the man, so he flopped onto his back on the bed to study the ceiling.

“Like I said, I don’t care what you do as long as you don’t bug me,” he repeated, taking another swig. He could hear 2D shuffling about the room doing Satan-knows what--probably throwing out his stuff again--and tried to ignore him. Sleep was calling to him, but every time he closed his eyes his mind would wander to what was going to happen tomorrow. So the cycle continued, he’d doze off, jerk awake, then slowly nod off again and again.

“Murdoc if you’re gonna sleep maybe you should put the bottle down and get comfortable?” 2D suggested from the other side of the room where he’d been rifling through a pile of lyrics and notes. Murdoc sat up with a grunt and glared at the other.

"Don’t tell me what to do,” he snarked, taking another sip. Stu cocked his head to the side and stared making Murdoc fidget.

“I was jus’ sayin’. If you’re not drinkin’ and you’re tired you should put it down and get some rest.” Even though 2D was trying to be helpful each suggestion made him more and more frustrated. He did place the bottle on the nightstand, but he continued to sit. Murdoc just wanted to rest, he was so tired.

“I keep thinkin’ about tomorrow and I can’t sleep,” Murdoc explained. “I was goin’ to drink until I passed out but I have a feelin’ you won’t let me.” 2D nodded thoughtfully before snapping his head up with a huge smile.

“I know what we can do to help you get to sleep Muds!” The singer stood up and ambled over to Murdoc with his hand out. “Come on.”

He had nothing to lose even if the dullard’s idea was stupid, Murdoc took the hand and let 2D pull him up off the bed and back out of the bedroom. “D, I don’t really feel like goin’ out again or anything…”

2D didn’t answer but instead steered them into the bathroom. “We’re gonna take a bath!”

“But we both showered today” Murdoc complained and 2D laughed.

“Not like that. Jus’ trust me, this’ll be so relaxing.” Did 2D know how much he was asking when he asked Murdoc to trust him? He must have some idea at least, because he knew Murdoc better than anyone else. Still, Murdoc took a breath and waited, watching 2D fill the bath with water and bubbles.

“If you say so D,” he answered. 2D shot him another smile and busied himself with the bathtub while Murdoc sat on the lid of the toilet watching. At one point he was a little worried that the bath was going to be more bubbles than water, but 2D seemed to know what he was doing enough that once the tub was full it was just the right amount of bubbly.

“OK, it’s ready,” 2D chirped. He began undressing rather quickly and before Murdoc got his socks off the singer was sinking down into the tub. “Hurry up Murdoc.”

“Give me a second D, Satan,” Murdoc griped, struggling with his shirt. Finally naked he turned to the bath and waved at 2D’s legs. “Well, make space then.”

2D opened his legs wide and it would have been a lewd position had the bubbles on blocked everything. “You can sit back against me.”

Murdoc hesitated for a moment but gave in quickly. They’d already been hugging and fucking, what harm could a little close-quarters bathing do? “Fine.”

Carefully Murdoc stepped into the tub and seated himself in between 2D’s legs, his back nearly touching the singer’s front. He couldn’t help but sigh at the feeling of the hot water over his body. Unconsciously he leaned back into the heat and ended up laying fully against 2D’s chest. With a quick glance up at his face, Murdoc saw that 2D had his eyes close, and didn’t seem upset at the contact, so he allowed himself to continue to relax further into the bath.

“Where’d you get all these poncy soaps?” he asked to break the silence. 2D opened his eyes.

“I bough’ it at some shop at the mall, dunno which. D’you like them?” He nodded which seemed to please the singer. Murdoc watched as 2D reached to the edge of the tub and grabbed a bottle, squeezing out some of the contents into his palm. “Can you get our hair wet for me?”

Murdoc splashed some water over his head and 2D cautiously began to rub the soap into his hair. It felt amazing, a thousand times better than in the foyer when 2D had been playing with it. Murdoc was very vocal about his kinks and sex life, but more private with things like this. It seemed intimate in a way that sex didn’t and that scared him. Stu’s long fingers worked the soap in thoroughly, never missing an inch, and Murdoc wanted so badly to melt into it.

“Stu…” he whispered, tilting his head back in ecstasy. It felt like that little bit of fear, that bit of uncertainty that still lingered in the back of his mind telling him 2D was going to hurt him or use this against him was being scrubbed away under Stuart's capable hands.

“OK Muds, let’s rinse that out so I can condition your hair too,” 2D murmured close to his ear. Murdoc compiled, the promise of more massaging egging him on. When he surfaced 2D pulled him back against his chest and slowly began to work the conditioner in. It felt just as good.

“Satan that’s good D,” Murdoc moaned. 2D chuckled a little. He knew he was probably acting ridiculous, moaning like a whore just from a little head rub, but up until the last few days he’d gone so long without really touching anyone and…

2D interrupted his train of thought with a train of delicate kisses to Murdoc’s throat and shoulder. That brought Murdoc’s focus back inward, and he realized he was very  _ very _ aroused.

“Oh fuck. Yes, D, yes,” he panted, craning his neck to the side to give Stu more access. It wasn’t even that disappointing when 2D stopped massaging the conditioner into his hair because once they were free, 2D’s hands began to wander down over his chest, pinching and teasing.

“I told you this’d be relaxin’ didn’t I Muds?” 2D laughed, taking a pause to suck another hickey on to Murdoc’s neck. Murdoc didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an answer, so he bit his lip and pushed back, grinding into what he hoped was 2D’s hard dick against his back. He was rewarded with a little grunt from the singer.

“You’re always so impatient,” the singer chided as he stiffened his legs around the bassist, effectively pinning him in place. Murdoc was about to protest when 2D slid one of his hands down quickly, cupping his cock with enough force to make him shiver violently. The younger man always knew how to make him melt like putty; it was a little embarrassing. “There, now let me take care of you for a bit, yeah?”

Like he had a choice. He felt 2D smile against his neck as he went back to kissing and rubbing tantalizingly slow against Murdoc’s prick. Had it really only been a day since they last fucked? Every touch felt electric, and even though Murdoc told himself it had everything to do with his recent dry spell, and nothing to do with 2D himself he could only lie to himself for so long. He’d nearly acknowledged it the other day, when he’d asked Stu what was going on between them, but he’d chickened out.

“You’re thinkin’ too much Muds,  _ again, _ ” 2D teased, wrapping his hand around Murdoc’s dick and slowly stroking. The action made Murdoc choke out a moan, subsequently cutting off his train of thought. “That’s better.”

“F-fuck you--ah!” Murdoc snapped as 2D quickened his pace. If the singer didn’t stop soon this was all going to be over before it’d even begun. “D-D! Stop!”

Immediately 2D let go of him, giving him space. If Murdoc hadn’t been one stiff breeze away from coming he might have been touched at the singer’s attentiveness. “Oh s-shit did I hurt you Murdoc?”

Murdoc shook his head and breathed deeply for a moment. “No, jus’ needed to slow down.” Twisting around to look 2D in the eye, he smiled sheepishly. “You really had me goin’, heh.”

2D’s look of concern morphed into playfulness. “Oh I see, the great Sex God Murdoc Niccals needs a breather from lil’ ol’ 2D’s magical hands.”

“You sounds like an idiot,” Murdoc said, laughing and reaching for the singer. 2D let himself be pulled down and kissed. “But you’re an idiot who’s good with his hands.”

“Mmmm gonna let me tickle your ivories Muds?” Murdoc snorted loudly, causing the water and bubbles to ripple dangerously. 2D leaned in and rubbed their noses together, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“If you’re lucky,” he answered, letting the singer do whatever he wanted despite his gruffness. 2D continued his nuzzling and snuggling, giving Murdoc the time he needed to cool down and feel back in control of himself. When he felt a little bit less desperate Murdoc wiggled out of 2D’s hold and turned around, pressing his front to the younger’s. Their semi-hard pricks rubbed together deliciously.

“Cooled off enough then?” 2D asked, his hands roaming Murdoc’s thighs. “What do you want, Murdoc?”

Stu was going to let him pick? Their last few encounters the singer had taken the lead and Murdoc had assumed that was going to be their dynamic. He could have 2D right now, make him get out of the bath and bend over the bed, show him the  _ real _ Murdoc Niccals experience. Part of him was dying to know what the singer sounded like when he was being pounded into the bed, needy and aching, begging for more.

But another part of him remembered how good 2D felt inside him and how nice it felt to be wanted and used by the singer. Murdoc had had many,  _ many _ partners in the past of all flavours of sexual appetite, but Stu managed to stand out. Maybe it was his imbecile charm or the history they shared made Murdoc trust him more, but either way, he found himself drawn to the idea of letting the singer take control.

“Whatever you want, Stu,” he said, mismatched stare meeting the youngers blank one. 2D smiled slowly, leaning in to nip at Murdoc’s ear and jawline, whispering hotly.

“What I want is to make you feel good, Muds. Make you scream and beg for me to fill you up with my come until you can’t take it anymore.” Murdoc’s breath hitched; the damn fool was getting better at know what to say to press his buttons. “Is that OK with you?”

“Fuck yeah,” Murdoc answered, gyrating his hips against the other’s. His enthusiasm seemed to rub off on the singer and Murdoc quickly found himself being kissed hard as 2D’s hands began to roam. Unlike the teasing touches from before 2D was really going for it this time, one of his hands making a beeline for the bassist's ass while the other groped around outside the bathtub for something. Murdoc wanted to break away and ask him what was so important he couldn’t keep both hands inside the tub when 2D made a triumphant noise and held up a small bottle.

“Are we really gonna fuck in the tub D?” Murdoc asked between kisses, moaning as the singer’s fingers brushed his ass hole. 2D shrugged and brought the bottle closer, showing Murdoc the label.

“S’waterproof, I had a bird that was really into shower sex a while back,” he explained, uncapping the lube and squeezing some onto his fingers. “It’s better than nothin’.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, jus’ hurry up D,” Murdoc ordered, shifting a little so the singer had more access to his ass. The shift brought him even closer to the other man, his face pressed up against his neck.

As 2D’s fingers rubbed against his entrance Murdoc showed his appreciation with open, wet kisses against the singer’s throat, occasionally groaning quietly. He resisted the urge to thrust back, knowing that if he did the bathtub might overflow but it was hard when 2D was being such a fucking tease.

“2D…” Murdoc growled in warning as the singer nearly pressed his finger in only to draw back again for the 5th time. Stu laughed a little and nuzzled against Murdoc’s hair as an apology.

“Can’t handle a little build-up Muds?” he teased.

“A little? We’re goin’ to be sitting in an ice bath by the time you get on with it!” Murdoc snapped. He was starting to regret not taking control when he had the chance. 2D smiled sweetly as he finally made good on his teasing and pressed into Murdoc’s body. “Ohh, finally.”

“One of these days I’m goin’ to have to tie you down so  I can work you up as much as I like until you’re  _ really _ begging for it,” Stu hummed, adding another finger and scissoring them. “Cuff your hands and legs to the bed frame and do whatever I want.”

“Fuck--” Murdoc breathed. They’d never talked about kinks so how did 2D keep hitting on his so perfectly? Did 2D talk to Madame Fleche behind his back?

“You like that idea? I’ve got some pretty swell toys we could try out, an’ I bet you do to. I could leave you strapped down on the Sybian for a couple hours, bet you’d do anything I want after that.” Murdoc swore under his breath at the combination of 2D’s dirty talk and the light brushes against his prostate.

“Fuck D, fuck me now. P-please...” He knew the singer liked when he begged. 2D’s heart was thumping against his chest, his dick was hard against Murdoc’s belly, he just needed a little push. “I-I  _ need  _  it, Stuart.”

2D didn’t answer but he did remove his fingers. Murdoc was about to complain again but 2D silenced him by pressing the blunt head of his dick to Murdoc’s entrance. The bassist let out an indignant squeak that turned into a moan as 2D thrust in slowly, careful not to disturb the bathwater. 

“There you go, that’s better right?” 2D’s voice was breathless with pleasure and Murdoc groaned in agreement. “Are you goin' to ride me, Murdoc? I want you to…”

Murdoc tried to but his knees kept slipping against the ceramic of the bathtub. The best he could manage was a feverish grinding; working Stu’s dick inside him as deep as possible and circling his hips. The singer seemed to enjoy it, and Murdoc enjoyed making him feel good.

“That’s beautiful, Muds. God, you’re lovely, look at you.” Murdoc grimaced at the praise, feeling exposed.

“M’gettin fat and old, D,” he replied, lowering his gaze to avoid the singers. 2D wasn’t having it though, one of his hands forcing Murdoc’s chin up.

“Doesn’t make you any less pretty t’me” 2D said, his thumb tracing Murdoc’s stubbled jaw. Instead of feeling the familiar sting of paranoia, the bassist blushed, something warm and pleasant slithering around in his chest.

“Y-you’re the pretty b-boy here, D,” Murdoc stuttered as he continued to circle his hips. Stu’s cock was snug against his prostate, his hands gripped tightly at Murdoc’s hips. As their pleasure mounted, their movements became increasingly lively. At this rate, the bathtub would be empty before they finished.

2D let go of Murdoc’s chin but didn’t lower his hand. Instead, he slipped his pointer and index finger into the bassist's mouth, pressing down on his tongue and making him salivate. Murdoc closed his lips around the digits and began to suck, his serpentine tongue winding around them suggestively.

“Fuck, you’re so hot Murdoc,” 2D whined, and Murdoc could tell he was starting to lose control by the way his hips thrust up erratically. To be honest Murdoc was relieved; he’d been near the edge for so long waiting for Stu to catch up.

Moans muffled by 2D’s fingers, Murdoc couldn’t ask the singer to touch his prick, couldn’t even beg for it. Taking things into his own hands, literally, he grasped his cock and tugged it once, twice, and he was done.

“St-Stuart!” he gasped, coming hard. 2D was quick to follow, the tell-tale warmth of the singer coming inside him making him whimper. Pulling his head back from the other man’s hand he allowed himself to slide down, coming to rest against 2D’s chest.

“How’s that for relaxin’?” Stu quipped after they’d both caught their breath. Murdoc slapped him lightly against the chest, but couldn’t deny the fact that he did feel like a taking a long nap.

“Sod off, Blue Bird. I’ve still got conditioner in my hair and this water is  _ filthy. _ ” 2D laughed and unplugged the bathtub with his feet, which Murdoc found a little creepy.

“OK, let’s get rinsed off in the shower and get to bed then,” the younger man stood and gave Murdoc a hand up as well. They showered quickly, almost chastely, and walked back to Murdoc’s room in their towels. Murdoc didn't want to think about if Russel was home, or if he’d heard them. Right now all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Paying very little mind to Stu Murdoc flung off his towel and laid down face first on his bed. He had to hand it the man, it’d take a miracle to keep him awake even five minutes longer. The slight weight of 2D settling on the bed beside him

“You actually goin’ to sleep then? You gonna bother puttin’ some pants on?” Murdoc grunted into his pillows. “I guess not then.”

The bed dipper more and he felt D slide in beside him and the comforter being pulled over his shoulders. It was warm and comfortable, despite the general state of his bed. Maybe he’ actually get a decent night of sleep for once.

“G’night Muds,” 2D whispered. Murdoc felt him shift around for a little while before settling on his side back to the bassist. The last few nights they’d gone to sleep practically on top of each other after sex, but that didn’t mean they had to snuggle up every night. At least, that’s what Murdoc told himself as eyed the singer’s back, silently wishing for the guts to shimmy closer.


	15. Noodle

_ He was on stage, playing bass, having a great time. Behind him, Russel was in his element, and to his far-right Noodle was jamming along, head nodding to the beat. At the front stood 2D, mouth pressed close to the microphone, crooning to the crowd. Murdoc wasn’t sure what song they were playing, but he was somehow following along so he assumed it wasn’t a big deal. _

_ The crowd was raucous and screaming. The people in front were pressed up against the stage, reaching for the band desperately and Murdoc laughed at them, tongue lolling out of his mouth. The screaming got louder.  He could hardly hear the music over the screaming and he turned to the rest of his band to see if they were having the same problem, only to realize he was alone on stage. He turned back to the crowd and they were gone too, except one lone figure in the shadows. The screaming was still there. It sounded like tires on asphalt. _

_ “Hello?” he called over the screaming. The figure moved forward, coming to stand a few feet from the stage. Murdoc recognized the long nose and dark brow; what was his father doing at one of his concerts? _

_ “You better not fuck it up this time,” the man said with a slur. Murdoc looked down and suddenly his bass is gone and he’d a lot closer to the floor. Red overalls, stockings, stupid brown shoes, he’d dressed up like Pinocchio, he’s back in the bar dancing for his father's drink money. But this happened years ago and-- _

_ “Go on, Muds, dance for us.” Now, 2D was standing next to his father, arms crossed and face blank. Stuart had never met his dad, had never been within 50 kilometres of his dad but here they were, standing next to each other in a pub in Stoke-on-Trent. 2D hadn’t even been alive when this had happened. _

_ “M’not gonna,” his voice came out childish and quiet, unheard over the screeching, though his father still sneered. _

_ “You will, if you know what’s good for you, Faceache,” he said, taking a step forward with his hand raised. Murdoc flinched and scrambled backward, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward. Craning his neck around he saw it was Noodle with Russel stood behind him, forcing him towards center stage and his dad. _

_ “N-no! Don’t make me, please don’t!” he begged, but none of them listened. Noodle leaned down and whispered in his ear, voice cold and biting. _

_ “Stop fucking around Murdoc, and do what needs to be done.” She pushed him hard and he stumbled into center stage, the spotlights blinding him for a moment. When he could see again there was blackness all around except for the circle of light surrounding him and a chair in front of him. Above it was a noose, hanging down, inviting him. _

_ Do it, do it, do it _

_ The screaming was getting louder and louder and it sounded like tires and like 2D and Russel and Noodle screaming at him to do them a favour, to end it, to get out of their lives. It was so loud, louder than any concert he’d been to and he stepped towards the chair, then up onto its seat. Looking out into the blackness he thought he could see the faces of his bandmates, his father, or everyone who’d ever persecuted him and everyone he’d ever wronged. _

_ Murdoc slipped the rope around his neck. It fit snuggly like it was made for him and he thought maybe it was. Maybe his whole life had been leading up to this, a disappointing end for a disappointing man. With the voices all around him, urging him on, he took a step off the chair and felt the noose tighten. Hopefully, it would be over soon. Hopefully, everyone would be happier without him. Hopefully-- _

* * *

 

“--doc!” Murdoc startled awake, arms and legs straining against whatever was on top of him. He couldn’t see what was holding him down but he needed it gone, needed to get up, to  _ go _ , and whatever was holding him down was stopping him.

“Murdoc calm down! Breath!” That was 2D shouting at him and holding him down. “Murdoc you’re OK. You’re here with me, in Wobble Street. It’s OK.”

“Dad?” Murdoc asked, remembering how 2D had been standing in the bar with his father, backing him up as he was about to beat him senseless, but 2D shook his head.

“No one here but me and you Muds. Your dad’s not here, hell I don’t even know if he’s  _ alive, _ ” 2D said slowly, moving off of the bassist but kept a hand on his chest. “You’re safe here.”

Murdoc took deep breaths, letting himself wake up and come back to reality. He wasn’t on stage, it was quiet, and the only other person here was 2D, who was wearing a pair of Murdoc’s sweatpants. The singer had a horrible case of bedhead and Murdoc can smell his breath from at least a foot away. He’s the most beautiful thing Murdoc has ever seen.

“What happened?” he asked, raising his hands to his chest and gripping Stu’s. The cold clamminess of his grasp was comforting.

“You started mumblin’ in your sleep about your dad, and Noodle, and bein’ on stage. I thought you were jus’ dreamin’ but then you started crying and saying something about ‘doin’ what needs to be done’ and I got worried,” 2D explained. Now that he mentioned it Murdoc could feel the wetness on his face. Acknowledging their existence brought more, a choking grip cutting off his windpipe.

2D saw this and shuffled closer, pressing his body against Murdoc’s side. He drew the arm not clutched in Murdoc’s grasp around the other man’s waist and Murdoc leaned into it. For once the bassist didn’t feel stupid about crying because, yeah, that dream had been pretty fucked up. It was everything he feared was true all rolled into one, convenient REM package. Murdoc turned his head to hide his face in Stu’s shoulder and sighed.

“I was dreamin’ we were playin’ a show but then everyone was gone and it was jus’ me and my dad. And I was back on stage as a kid, dancing for beer money. Only I didn’t want to.” He took a shuddering breath, grounding himself to the feel of 2D’s fingers tracing circles on his naked hip. “And suddenly you and Russ and Noodle were there, and Noodle was tellin’ me to jus’ do it, but now there was a noose and I--” He was cut off by a sob.

2D shushed him softly and shifted so he was holding Murdoc tightly against his chest. “It was jus’ a dream, Muds. Noodle would never say that stuff to you, she loves you. We love you.” Stuart paused for a brief second, letting his head dip down close to Murdoc’s ear, like the next thing he said was a secret only for the Satanist. “I love you.”

Murdoc knew 2D didn’t mean it that way. He couldn’t, it wasn't possible for  _ anyone to _ love Murdoc that way, it was nearly impossible that the singer even meant it in the family sense. Sobbing even harder now Murdoc stuffed his knuckles in his mouth, biting down hard to try and center himself. It wasn’t working so he bit harder, tasting blood.

“I’m sorry, Murdoc, I didn’t mean to--are you bleeding?” 2D asked, leaning back to pull at Murdoc’s hand. The bassist resisted, but he was shaking too hard to fight back. Stu looked over the bite and tutted, tucking Murdoc’s head back under his chin.

“Don’t go hurtin’ yourself Muds, that’s no good,” he scolded. “I’m sorry I upset you again.”

Murdoc wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, 2D didn’t know what it was like to be unlovable. Everyone fell in love with the singer on sight. He was everything that Murdoc wasn’t, charming, sociable,  _ likeable _ . No one had ever loved Murdoc, not from the day he was born and they wouldn’t until the day he died.

“N-no, no,” he eked out between sobs, trying to explain. He  _ needed _ to explain so the singer didn’t think this was his fault.

“Shhh, it’s ok. I’m here, and we love you and it’s all ok.” There he went saying it again! Murdoc moaned pitifully, shaking his head. Why couldn’t 2D be like everyone else and hate him? It would be easier for everyone. “We want you here with us, Muds. Without you, there’d be no Gorillaz.”

He shook his head harder. They really didn’t need him, if he was being honest he knew at least five people who could replace him; hell, some of them were even green. 2D sighed again and pulled Murdoc as close as he could until not an inch of his body wasn’t pressed up against the bassist's.

“Murdoc I promise. I promise you’re family to us and we need you.” There was another pregnant pause filled by the Satanist’s sniffling. “I need you OK? So please don’t go anywhere.”

Fuck he was so tired, he didn’t want to do this anymore. “S-sorry.” What was he even apologizing for?

“It’s ok, I forgive you,” 2D answered even though he probably had no idea what the other man was talking about. It made Murdoc feel a little better even if it was ridiculous.

“I’m tired, D,” he mumbled into the other’s shoulder. 2D took a second to fidget around with his phone before wrapping his arms back around Murdoc.

“We still have hours before we need to wake up, so why don’t you go back to sleep?” He didn’t have a choice, his eyelids were already half shut. “Tomorrow we’ll get to talk to Noodle and you’ll see everythin’s gonna be jus’ fine.”

* * *

 

The next time 2D woke up the room was brighter. Moving slowly as to not jostle Murdoc still sleeping on his chest, he checked the time; it was 9 am. Russel had sent him a text asking them to be ready to go by noon so as much as he was enjoying laying in bed he knew it was time to get up.

Surprisingly Murdoc hadn’t woken up through his wiggling, he must have been exhausted after his nightmare last night. Had Murdoc always had so many nightmares? 2D didn’t want to think about the older man spending sleepless years in his room, crying out into the dark. Stu knew nightmares well, but at least he’d been able to go to Noodle or Russ when they happened. With a gentle hand he began to run his fingers through the bassist's hair, trying to wake him up slowly.

“Murdoc…” he whispered as quietly as possible. “It’s time to wake up.”

Murdoc stirred and smushed his face against Stu’s chest with a groan. A man of his age had no right looking as cute as he did in that moment. 2D smiled and continued his petting, planting a kiss against Murdoc’s hair.

“Don’t be like that, Muds.” Murdoc continued to resist waking up, going so far as to pull the comforter over his head to hide from Stu’s petting. With a laugh 2D wrestled the sheets from him and threw them off the bed, leaving Murdoc naked and shivering.

“Deeeeee,” Murdoc whined, balling himself up as close to the singer as possible. “It’s too cold.”

2D laughed and sat up. “It’ll be warmer after you get dressed so get up.”

“Fuck off,” the bassist replied, but he did sit up, much to Stu’s relief.

"Oh good, I was worried I might have to carry you.” Murdoc gave him the finger and got out of bed, stretching dramatically.

“As if you could, Bean-Poll.” He went to the closet and grabbed a random shirt and pants. “I feel fuckin’ awful.”

2D followed him out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. “Are you really goin’ to follow me into the bathroom D? Go get dressed.”

The singer hesitated. “I guess, I’ll see you downstairs in a few minutes?”

“Yeah yeah.”

2D hurried through dressing and brushing his teeth in the ensuite bathroom. When he was finished Murdoc was still in the bathroom, but he could hear the sound of the shower running so he tried not to worry about it too much.

Down in the kitchen Russel was sitting at the dining table reading the paper, a bowl of cereal in front of him. When 2D walked in he looked up and nodded towards the kettle.

“Hey D. Kettle just boiled, if you want tea.”

“Thanks, Russ, you been up long?” he asked, taking two mugs down and filling them.

“Nah, not too long,” Russel answered, rustling the paper. “I saved you the funnies.”

“Thanks!” 2D sat at the table and started reading the comics. They were both quiet for a bit until Russel set the paper down, folding his hands in his lap and turning to the singer.

“So, is Murdoc comin’ with us?” 2D startled but quickly calmed.

“Oh, yeah he is. He’s jus’ gettin’ ready I think,” he answered. “I think he needs a lil’ space today.”

“If you think so D, I trust your judgement.” Russel took a sip of his tea and chuckled. “To be honest I’m surprised you two haven’t gotten sick of each other yet.”

2D chuckled nervously. “Ah, uh, yeah. We’ve been gettin’ along pretty well.”

Russel smiled and went back to his paper. “That’s good. I'm glad you guys have worked shit out.”

“Yeah…” Stu said quietly, a light blush spreading over his cheeks.

A few more peaceful moments passed between to two before Murdoc walked in dressed all in black, hair dripping. He grunted a hello and made a beeline for the fridge, probably looking for alcohol. 2D hoped that he could keep the bassist sober for their visit today, so he jumped up.

“I made you a cuppa, Muds. Here.” He thrust the cup at the Satanist, effectively ending his hunt for booze. Murdoc looked confused, but took the mug and sat at the table, picking up the comics 2D had left there.

“Thanks, D,” he said, sipping the warm liquid. 2D let out a sigh of relief and turned to the toaster to make him and Murdoc some food.

While he waited for the toast to pop his mind wandered to the night before. After their great day out and even better bath he hadn’t expected things to turn out so… sad. They’d made it through the entire day without arguing--even after 2D left Murdoc with all the bags--and they’d wrapped it up with some very nice sex. But then he’d been woken up by the tell-tale thrashing and whimpering of the bassist's nightmare. Murdoc had been mumbling all sort of things in his sleep as 2D tried to wake him up, and when he finally succeeded the truth of what he’d been dreaming about had broken Stu’s heart. He didn't know what to do or how to fix it and he’d been panicking.

So he’d done something a little stupid. The second those words left his lips he’d felt an overwhelming adrenaline rush. Why the fuck did he say  _ that? _ Murdoc was family, of course he loved him, but that didn’t explain the rapid beating in his chest and his sweaty palms. Fuck he couldn’t have actual feelings for Murdoc, could he? That wasn’t possible, wasn’t allowed. Fuck.

Luckily he’d had to focus on Murdoc and his breakdown instead of having his own, and then that morning he’d almost been able to convince himself he hadn’t said that. But looking at him now, hair still wet, eyes dark and tired, 2D couldn’t deny that he felt  _ something _ for the bassist outside of friendship. He felt the urge to walk over and drape his arms around Murdoc’s shoulders and read the funnies with him. Luckily the toast popped at that moment, stopping him from doing anything too stupid.

He buttered the toast and set it out on the table for the two of them. He made sure that Murdoc ate at least a few pieces. Russel watched them with a with a sort of half smile on his face, but 2D tried not to think about that. The bassist seemed relatively calm, if not a little tired, and 2D hoped that today’s meeting would go smoother than the last one.

“Well, we might as well head out now to avoid traffic,” Russel announced. Nervous energy thrummed through 2D’s limbs; in a few hours they’d finally be able to see Noddle awake. A quick glance over at Murdoc told him the bassist was feeling something similar. Offering the other man a quick smile he stacked up the plates and dumped them in the sink.

“OK, let’s go then,” he chirped. This time he remembered to grab his coat and warm shoes. Murdoc followed behind, his usual Cuban heels replaced with a more sensible pair of dark boots and a warm-looking leather jacket hanging loosely over his frame. He already had his cigarettes out and offered 2D one before lighting his own.

“Thanks Muds, you ready to go?” he said.

“No, but I don’t have a choice so let’s just go.” 2D frowned and put a hand on the other’s shoulder.

“Murdoc,” he paused, wanting to say the right thing, “you know we’re here with you right? We can do this together.”

“Yeah, I know.” Murdoc shrugged the hand off and trudged to the car. 2D watched him go, a little hurt that he’d been brushed off, but he didn’t want to let it bother him too much so he followed Murdoc out the door. Murdoc, surprisingly, took the back seat, so 2D slid into the passenger side, quickly followed by Russel getting in the driver's side.

The drive to the hospital was relatively silent save for the jingling of 2D’s coat zipper every time he fidgeted with it. Which was often. So he had feelings for Murdoc. Romantic feelings. His zipper jangled rapidly. He should have known he wasn’t over that stupid crush he’d had on the bassist in his early 20’s. No it’d stuck around and festered, getting stronger and stronger until--

_ I love you. _

Until  _ that _ . And now he was stuck with those stupid feelings making everything messy and complicated. Because there was no way Murdoc could like him back like that.  _ There was no way 2D even wanted Murdoc to like him back. _ Besides, wouldn’t it be a little… weird to try and start a relationship now? Murdoc was obviously going through some major shit, and Noodle was still in the hospital. This wasn’t exactly ideal timing.

And that wasn’t even touching the whole Plastic Beach thing.

2D startled as Russel pulled the parking brake. He’d spaced out the entire ride and they were already there. “That didn’t take too long, did it?”

“D you were completely zoned out the whole trip. We got stuck behind a truck for 20 minutes,” Russel answered, shaking his head. Both men got out of the car, followed by Murdoc. 2D lit a fag and handed the lighter to the bassist, who was already pulling out his own smoke.

“Thanks,” he grunted. They stood around the car for a bit, 2D and Murdoc smoking, Russel checking his phone. There was still an odd silence between them that 2D wasn’t sure how to break, or even what the cause was. Russel seemed the same as ever. Maybe he should check in with him when they got back home, Stu’d been spending so much time with Murdoc he forgot that Russel might need some support too.

Murdoc looked no different than he had all morning. He was a little pale, with dark under-eye circles and rough stubble. 2D was sure he looked pretty rough himself, what with all the interrupted nights of sleep. He hoped that if Noodle was awake she wouldn’t notice how badly they’d all fallen apart without her.

“Well if you two are done we can go inside,” Russel said, breaking the silence. 2D nodded and stubbed out his fag on the ground, Murdoc did the same against his pant leg. Russ led the way inside like before and they immediately queued up for the lift. Murdoc was lagging behind but eventually, they all got in and stepped out on the Head Trauma Ward.

“Come on Russ hurry up,” 2D whined, trying to weave around the much larger man and make a break for Noodle’s room. Russel kept his steady pace.

“Not yet D, I want to show you two something.” He stopped at a door a few down from Noodle’s. It had a little window with curtains and a couch inside. “This is a break room. The doctor told me about it after the last time. If any of us need to step out and get some air we can come in here and chill. It’s basically soundproof too, and it has a lock on the door.”

2D peered through the window and glanced back to Murdoc who was scuffing his boots against the floor. “Well, that’s good to know Russ, thanks! Can we go see Noodle now?”

“Yeah D, it’s two rooms up on the right, go ahead.”

With excited steps, 2D jogged down the hall and into the room. Noodle was there, on the bed like she had been the last two times covered in wires and plaster casts. The machines that 2D couldn’t possibly fathom the use for beeped and blooped and whirred. In general, everything looked the exact same as the last time he’d been in there except for the bed, which was tilted up in a slight sitting position. 2D approached cautiously, peering over the side. He held his breath as he stared at her and her eyelids fluttered open slightly.

“Noodle?” he whispered brokenly just as Murdoc and Russel walked in and her eyes opened further.


	16. Crash 2.0

_ By the time she figured out how to open her eyes, Noodle was pissed. She’d spent days--weeks, months?--in blackness. For the first little while, all she could hear was screeching metal and a crash, over and over again. That eventually faded into the muddled sounds of machines and occasionally voices. Unable to move, she focused all her energy into understanding those voices. At first, it seemed impossible, like they were all speaking another language and she was reminded of when she’d jumped out of that FedEx crate on the doorstep of Kong. But eventually she could make out words, then sentences. _

_ A car crash ... _

_ Brain damage? _

_ Poor thing she… _

_ She remembered then. She remembered Murdoc snapping and pushing 2D, 2D bumping into her and then the grill of a car. She’d been in a car crash. She was in the hospital and she couldn’t move or speak. _

_ Noodle wanted to scream, tried a thousand times only for her body to refuse to respond. She cried inside but her body remained still and it was  _ torture. _ The few minutes each day, when the nurses came in to check on her, were a blessing because she could pretend to be a part of their conversations as an escape from the endless nothingness. _

_ And then she’d heard it-- _

_ “H-hey Noods.” That was 2D! She wanted to jump up and throw her arms around the skinny man but she was immobile, unable to even smile. _

_ “Hi there Noodle-girl.” Russel was here too? _

_ “S-she looks a lot better, doesn’t she Russ?” Did she? She had no idea what he looked like right now, she could hardly feel her own body, but she soaked up the information, craving any clue to how long she’d be stuck like this. _

_ “The bruises are startin’ to fade.” So it had been a little while, but not too long. Good. _

_ “Sorry, Muds. Here you can take my spot.” Noodle was surprised to hear Murdoc was here as well. He wasn’t the type of person to visit sick relatives in the hospital, though maybe Russel and 2D forced him to come. She was glad either way, to have her entire family present. _

_ Suddenly there was a commotion, slamming doors and shouts of “Murdoc!” and the sound of rubber against the tile. Even though she couldn’t open her eyes she knew the room was empty again, and that everyone had left. Inside, confused and alone, she cried.  _

_ At least after that, she had a clearer understanding of time passing. She heard the nurses talking about waking her up soon and she was angry to find out that it was the hospital keeping her ‘asleep’. But that was quickly overshadowed by the excitement that soon she’d be awake and able to move and talk and-- _

_ Suffice to say Noodle spent a number of hours making lists of things she would do once she was awake. _

_ And finally,  _ finally, _ the day came that when she told her eyelids to open, they fluttered. Ecstatic beyond reason she tried again and again until she could open her eyes fully to see the room around her. Next came focusing her eyes, then twitching her fingers. Each tiny accomplishment felt like the most important thing in the world. Noodle was so close to being able to lift her arm on command when she heard the door open again. _

_ “Noodle?” It was 2D again and inwardly she grinned. This time she would be able to see him, to let him know she was there. Slowly, she opened her eyes. _

Noodle was awake.

* * *

 

The first thing Murdoc heard as he walked into the room was 2D crying. The fear that shot through him was the most intense he’d ever experienced. She was dead, she’d died before they got here and it was too late for him to apologize and--

“You’re awake! Oh my God, she’s awake!”  2D exclaimed, setting the potted plant they brought with them on the windowsill and tightly grasping her hand. Murdoc was frozen in the doorway, stunned into silence. Behind him Russel pushed through and rushed to the bedside.

“Baby girl,” he breathed, his hands hovering over her like he was unsure what to do. Murdoc watched as the larger man slowly lowered his hands to the one of her’s that wasn’t held by 2D, gently stroking her much smaller hand with his. “Can you hear us?”

Murdoc couldn’t see from where he was but judging from the gasps, she made some sort of positive motion. Satan, he hadn’t been expecting this even though Russel had told them what to expect. Best case scenario, this, worst case she wasn’t awake yet. In his mind, he’d been disasterizing so much he’d convinced himself that the second he walked into the room his mere presence would cause her to die. Somehow his brain had made him believe that he was so toxic that just being in the same room as someone as fragile as Noodle would cause catastrophe.

“Murdoc’s here too, Noods,” Russel whispered, looking up at the bassist. Murdoc wavered for a moment before steeling himself and walking cautiously to the bedside. Noodle was there, looking much the same as she had last time except now her big dark eyes were open and looking straight at him.

“H-hey Noodle,” he stuttered. Nervously he chewed on a lip with his sharp teeth, unsure of what else he was supposed to do.

“We’ve been so worried about you Noodle,” 2D said, smiling big. “But you’re gonna be ok now!”

“Slow down D, we don’t even know if she knows what happened. Noodle can you blink once for yes, twice for no for us?” She blinked once at Russel and he smiled as well. “Good. Do you remember the accident?”

She blinked once, her lips quirked down slightly. With what looked like great difficulty she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Murdoc looked to Russel.

“Why can’t she talk Rus?”

“The doctor said it might take a while for her brain to sort itself out. Do you understand, Noodle?” Murdoc watched her blink once again still looking frustrated.

“I know it sucks, Noods, but I promise it gets better,” 2D assured her and Murdoc realized that if anyone would know, it would be the singer.

“We’re sorry we didn’t visit but the doctor said you needed ‘brain rest’,” Russel explained. Murdoc stood to the side and watched as she blinked once again, and then made direct eye contact with him.

Murdoc wasn’t sure if he was glad he couldn’t talk, or devastated. What was she thinking about, was she angry at him for basically, pushing her out in front of that car? He couldn’t imagine she was anything but livid. Was she disgusted to see him here, did she hate him as much as he hated himself? It was a small blessing that 2D didn’t try to force him to hold her hand again.

“But now that you’re awake we can visit a whole bunch!” Stu said, a dance in his step. Russel chuckled but didn’t disagree. Were they going to be visiting every day? Was he going to have to come and see her, see what he’d done every single day until she could tell him herself to fuck off and never come back?

“We’ve all missed you a lot, even Murdoc!” Russel joked, but Murdoc didn't smile.

“Of course I’ve missed her, tosser,” he snapped.

“Sorry Muds.”

“Are you feelin’ ok here Noodle?” 2D asked, worriedly playing with her fingers. Noodle blinked once and then managed a small smile. Looking over to Murdoc, and then down at her hands held by her other two bandmates, then back to Murdoc she blinks once again.

“I think she wants you to hold her hand, Murdoc,” Russel said, moving away from the bed to give the bassist space. Murdoc felt uneasy as he took over Russel’s spot. With a shaky hand he reached out to Noodle, remembering the icy coldness of her skin from last time. As he wrapped his much larger, scarred hand around her’s he’s glad to note it felt much more like living skin. Noodle smiled up at him and he felt tears begin to form.

“Noodle…” He was going to lose it. The tears welled up and began to roll down his face without his permission. Noodle frowned up at him, probably angry at his self-pity. “Noodle I'm so sorry.”

She blinked twice and Murdoc's heart sank. She didn't accept his apology. He deserved it and he went to let go of her hand but felt her grip it, just a little.

“I think she's sayin’ you don't have to be sorry, it was an accident.,” 2D interpreted as Noodle blinked once. “See she agrees!”

But Murdoc wasn't really listening. He heard what Stu said, saw her blink, but his brain wouldn't accept it. There was no way this wasn't his fault, these idiots were just too trusting and too used to his bullshit to know any better. He’d tricked them all into caring about him and he didn't deserve their love.

Gently, but quickly, he pulled his hand away from Noodle’s. The tears were making it hard to see and he stumbled back from the bedside, aiming for the door. The same feeling of needing to run was taking over again and as he blindly scrambled around the bed and out of the room he heard the sound of steps behind him.

“Murdoc, the break room’s on your right. We can go in there,” 2D said, his long stride allowing him to catch up to Murdoc’s shorter ones. Luckily he remembered which door because once he entered he collapsed on the floor crying.

“Oh, Murdoc,” 2D said in a hushed voice as he closed the door and drew the shades. Murdoc could do nothing but sob, his hands wound tightly in his hair and  _ pulling. _ He felt 2D sit down next to him and put a cautious hand on his knee. Murdoc pulled Stu closer, shoving his face hard against the singer's chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chanted between sobs. “I-I don’t deserve y-you a-a-all.”

“Whaddaya mean, Muds? You deserve to have a family that loves you,” Stuart said in a hushed voice as he rocked the older man back and forth. “Noodle isn’t mad at you, I’m not mad, and neither is Russ.”

But Murdoc continued to shake his head. How could he make the singer understand that he’d tricked them? “I-It doesn’t w-w-work like that 2D! You all jus’  _ think _ y-you like m-me but you d-don’t. You  _ can’t. _ ”

But 2D wasn’t backing down. “Who says we can’t? Mud’s you deserve to have people love you. Why don’t you believe me?”

He didn’t know why, but he knew how he felt. “I-I didn’t  _ do _ a-anythin’ to m-m-make it up to you. I-I-I don’t th-think I  _ can. _ ”

2D pulled back and looked him in the eyes and Murdoc saw a glint of frustration. “So what? You want me to be angry? You want me to beat you up?”

Murdoc looked down silently. Maybe that was it. If 2D beat the shit out of him he could stop beating himself up. He deserved it, anyway, for everything he’d done to the guy. It would only be fair. 2D sighed.

“I’m not goin’ to hit you, Muds. That’s not gonna solve anythin’.” 2D shifted so he was sitting crossed-legged with Murdoc in his lap. “I know that you’ve been hurt a lot, and I know the people that hurt you were the ones that were supposed to love you and that makes it hard for you to love yourself. But it’s different now, I promise, and we can work this out without hurtin’ each other.”

“H-how?” he asked. Murdoc couldn’t remember a single relationship he’d had where it hadn’t ended in disaster, usually caused by him. Even when it wasn’t his fault, when he’d been a little kid who didn’t know any better it had always ended in violence and tears. His father's face flashed on the back of his eyelids and he shuddered.

“I dunno exactly,” 2D answered warily. “I’m not an expert or anythin’, but we could try and find one to help us--” Murdoc shook his head violently.

“M’not seein’ a-a shrink,” he insisted, clenching his hands into fists tight enough to feel his nails dig into skin. “I-I’ve been down that road b-b-before.”

“You have? You never told me that,” 2D said, surprised. Murdoc began to cry quietly again. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

They sat on the floor of the breakroom for a long time, 2D occasionally checking in with Murdoc, or trying to get him talking, but Murdoc remained silent for the most part. Eventually, he stopped crying, but instead of feeling better he felt worn out and exhausted. Today had been another disaster, thanks to him.

“Sorry I ruined your visit again,” he mumbled and 2D shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s OK, I’m jus’ glad she’s awake and we can talk to her.”

Murdoc went quiet again. 2D continued to rock them both gently back and forth, nearly lulling him to sleep. It felt so good to be held, to be comforted.

“I remember,” he started unsteadily, ”there was this one time when I was a kid my dad had this girlfriend who stuck around for a while.” He felt 2D nod against his head. “I musta been four or five, and I remember she had blonde hair and a-always smelled like baked goods. Anyway, she used to hold me like this, sometimes, when my dad was b-bein’ especially bad.”

“That sounds really nice, Muds.” Murdoc nodded.

“She left. Couldn’t handle my pops.” He didn’t remember her leaving, but he knew she must have at some point. They all did.

“M’sorry Murdoc. That musta been hard,” 2D said, running his hands up and down the bassists back. It centred him enough that he could pull back and look up at 2D.

“Thank you, D,” he said, trying to be as clear as possible. 2D went to brush him off but Murdoc put up a hand. “I mean it. You’ve been takin’ care of me a lot and I know I haven’t made it easy.”

“You’d do the same for me,” 2D answered, but Murdoc wasn’t so sure.

“Would I? I'm an asshole.” All those times on Plastic Beach when he’d left Stu down in the basement without his headache pills…

“Maybe before, but not now,” 2D said with confidence. What had Murdoc done to make 2D believe in him so much?

“Maybe. I don’t know.” They lapsed back into silence. Murdoc let his head rest on 2D’s chest again and listened to the singer’s steady heartbeat. Satan, what would he do without him? Since the band had gotten back together his relationship with the younger man had been different, but in a good way and he wasn’t sure why. Murdoc hadn’t been himself for a while, but with 2D he could almost feel normal. Or if not normal then at least functional. Barring a few times he’d gotten mad the singer had been caring and supportive, always putting Murdoc before himself. He couldn’t imagine if 2D hadn’t been around, or if he’d still been angry at him.

“2D?” he asked, quietly. The singer hummed in response. “What are we doin’?”

“We’re sittin’ Muds, what d’you mean?” Satan he was so thick sometimes, but Murdoc still found him kind of adorable.

“No I mean us. What’s goin’ on with us.”

2D paused, before exhaling loudly. “You agreed that us screwin’ around was good for all the stress and--” Murdoc cut him off.

“Bullshit D, you know what I’m talkin’ about. It hasn’t just been sex,” Murdoc snapped. He knew that the singer knew he was telling the truth. But 2D shook his head, his eyes wide.

“I-I dunno what you’re talkin’ about Murdoc, we’re mates.” Murdoc felt a drop in his stomach and he sat back pushing against 2D’s chest.

“You have got to be shittin’ me Stu. Mate don’t fuckin’ hold each other like this. Mates don’t go out shoppin’ and holdin’ hands.” Murdoc was surprised that he was saying all that, normally he was the first one to cut and run when feelings got involved. But 2D’s refusal angered him in a way that other flings hadn’t.

“What are you sayin’ Muds?” 2D seemed to waver between getting up and staying put for a second. Murdoc sighed and gripped the singer’s shirt in his hands.

“I’m sayin’ there’s somethin’ between us D, somethin’ more than jus’ sex.” The ball was in 2D’s court now.

“Murdoc…” The younger man looked up and met the bassist’s reddened eyes. “I don’t think this’s a good idea.”

Murdoc began to panic. He didn’t want to lose what they had. “Why not? I know you like the sex at least, I’m sure I could make it better for you.” Fuck fuck fuck he should have kept his stupid mouth shut.

“Murdoc stop,” 2D said, uncrossing his legs and beginning to stand leaving Murdoc on the ground. “We can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what Stuart?” Murdoc stood as well, a few feet of space between them. 2D was stepping backward towards the door and the bassist knew he was going to make a break for it. “Y-you told me to trust you, and I-I am.”

2D looked back at the door, and then at Murdoc. He seemed lost. “Murdoc everythin’s all fucked up and you haven’t been right. We shouldn’t be doin’ this right now.”

“But we’re already doin’ it,” Murdoc said quietly and 2D sighed again. For a brief, happy second Murdoc thought he’d won him over. Then 2D turned towards the door.

“I can’t Muds. This was a mistake.” Murdoc watched him open the door and walk out without a glance back, leaving Murdoc behind. As the door clicked shut Murdoc felt like he’d lost something vital and he’d never get it back. If he’d had any tears left, he might have cried.


	17. Bridge

2D walked back to Noodle’s room like he was in a dream. The conversation he’d had with Murdoc played over and over in his brain like a record on repeat. He wasn’t really sure what had even happened, the entire exchange was confusing. One second he was comforting his mate like he’d done quite a few times in the last couple weeks, and the next Murdoc was pushing him for… something. 

He reached Noodle’s room and opened the door. Russel was seated at her side and looked up when he walked in, obviously looking over Stu’s shoulder for Murdoc. Noodle was sitting up a little more and turned her head as well, smiling at him. 

“Hey Russ, Noods. Sorry, I had to rush out like that,” he apologized, sitting on her other side. Noodle blinked twice and Russel nodded in agreement. 

“Don’t worry about it D, where’d Murdoc?” 2D looked around nervously.

“Uh, he’s still takin’ a break, you know how he’s been…” Russel nodded. 

“Yeah I was tellin’ Noodle about it a little. She was confused about why he ran out like that,” Russel explained. 2D hoped he didn’t tell her too much. He didn't want Noodle to spend the time she should be resting worrying. 

“Thanks, Russ. Anythin’ else I missed?”

They sat for another hour, Russel and Noodle communicating with 2D chiming in occasionally. He felt bad that he was so distracted, but his mind kept drifting back to Murdoc. He couldn’t understand what the bassist wanted from him, nothing he gave was good enough. He’d tried being a good friend, he tried the sex, and nothing seemed to help. He just wanted more and more from the singer and 2D didn’t know if he had anything else to give. 

Eventually, Noodle began to doze off, so Russel decided they should leave. “We’ll be back to visit soon, OK? I have to ask the doctor how often we can visit but we’ll be here as often as we can, alright baby?” Noodle nodded, her eyelids heavy. 2D smiled and leaned in to give her a hug. 

“Love you, Noods. We’ll be back soon, and maybe I can bring some of your stuff to make this room feel a lil’bit more homey, yeah?” Noodle nodded again, unable to wrap her arms around him, but 2D knew that if she could she would. Russel gave her a hug and kiss as well, and they left the room. Stu looked back as they walked out into the hall, catching the moment Noodle closed her eyes in exhaustion. 

“Let’s go get Murdoc from the break room,” Russel said, taking the lead. “Maybe we can stop for lunch or something on the way back.”

“I dunno Russ, I kind of feel like jus’ goin’ home,” 2D answered tiredly. They came up on the door to the breakroom, the blinds still drawn, and Russel walked inside. 2D followed.

“Well shit,” Russel sighed, taking in the state of the room. Furniture was overturned and a lamp smashed. “What the hell happened?”

With a deep breath, 2D stepped out of the room and into the hall. This was his fault, he was a bad friend, oh God. Russel followed him and placed a hand on his shoulder, comforting and grounding. “D, I think you need to tell me what’s  _ really _ been goin’ on between you and Murdoc.”

* * *

 

Murdoc was walking quickly down the street. He had no plan or idea of where he was going; his mind was screaming the same thing over and over.

_ Get OUT Get OUT Get OUT _

How could he have been so  _ stupid _ ! Of course, 2D didn’t feel the same way Murdoc did, if he even felt anything at all.  _ Liar, you know you’re in love with him, have been-- _

Murdoc shouted, grabbing his hair and pulling hard right there in the middle of the sidewalk. A few pedestrians crossed to the other side of the road to avoid him. It was all fucked up now because of him, just like always. The band was going to fall apart and he’d have nothing, a washed-up nobody who would die alone.

_ Just like your father. _

He continued walking rapidly with no destination in mind. Thoughts raced through his mind, from what had happened at the hospital, to how it was all his fault, to thoughts of his childhood. That nightmare from last night kept replaying in his head over and over, he couldn’t escape it, the thoughts mixing up with 2D’s confused face as he left the hospital break room. 

Finally, he walked past a bar. Without a second’s hesitation, he walked in a sat down, waving down the bartender. “Give me three shots of rum to start and keep em’ comin’,” he ordered. The bartender looked pissed at being ordered around but did as asked. 

Murdoc downed the shots one after the other, gesturing for more. He couldn’t get drunk fast enough to outpace the thoughts in his head. Noodle on the bed, awake but still so broken. 2D sitting with him in the break room,  _ holding  _ him gently as he cried. The warm, loving feeling he’d got as the singer rocked them back and forth.

Then the shock, the anger and resentment. The sadness he’d felt as Stuart pulled away and left the room, denying what was going on between them. Murdoc  _ knew _ they weren’t acting like best mates of fuck buddies. He’d had sex friends in the past and those relationships had never gone past a bit of post-fuck cuddling or sharing a cigarette in bed. No fucking kissing, or going out on pseudo-dates. 

Thing is, Murdoc wasn’t exactly  _ against _ doing all of that stuff with Stu. Sure at first he’d been a little weirded out; in general he didn’t have romantic relationships with anyone, much less an idiot like 2D. But he’d slowly gotten used to it and opened up to the singer. He found himself wanting to be close to him, wanting to tell him things he’d never told anyone before but scared that the singer would reject him. 

And he’d taken that leap. It blew up in his face spectacularly. Now he’d lost the singer, and soon he’d lose everything else. He downed another shot, then another. 

“Buddy if you keep going like that I’m gonna have to cut you off,” the bartender said. Murdoc sneered.

“It’s you’re fuckin’ job to serve booze and you’re gonna cut someone off for gettin’ a little tipsy?” he snapped. The bartender rolled his eyes but served him another shot. “D’you even know who I am?”

“No, as far as I know, you’re just another sad sod day drinking himself into a stupor.” The bartender banged the half-full bottle of rum on the counter. “Take this and leave me alone.”

Delighted, Murdoc pushed the shot glasses aside and took a swig straight from the bottle. Maybe now he could finally forget about everything.

He sat at the bar for a few hours, working his way through the bottle of rum, and then through a few shots of whiskey before the bartender finally cut him off. With a grumble he wobbled off the barstool and out the door in search of another bar, but as he weaved down the street he realized he probably wouldn’t find one that would serve him. Instead, he stopped at a bench and sat. 

The alcohol was doing very little to help his black mood. Instead it seemed to make it worse, forcing him to dwell on things better left forgotten. Like how, without Gorillaz, he really had no reason to live. Or how the one person he’d ever thought he might have a real chance with had left him on the floor of a hospital. 

Because he did love Stuart, he realized; he had for a while. For longer than he'd like to admit it’d been something closer to a sick obsession and he’d taken that out on the singer. Since coming back from Plastic Beach he’d tried harder to be nicer to the band, and when that hadn’t worked--because he was a bastard, through and through--he’d isolated himself. But then everything happened with Noodle and he’d been forced to be close with 2D again and well, it’d brought back those old feelings. 

“A lotta good they did me,” he mumbled to himself. If he’d just kept to himself then Noodle wouldn’t have been hurt and he wouldn’t have gotten near to the singer and none of those would have happened. If he hadn’t been around, then he wouldn’t have been there to ruin things, like usual.

He wasn’t fucked up enough to be thinking like this. He reached for his cellphone to text his dealer, but remembered it was still broken from the other day at the hospital. He stood again; he’d have to find something the old fashioned way, which involved a lot more walking than he wanted to do. He didn’t have a choice though, he needed something to get him out of his head, so he stood up, stumbling, and continued down the road.

* * *

2D sat on the sofa at home, letting Russel mull over everything he’d said. He’d explained how they were sleeping together, how troubled Murdoc had been, and how the bassist had all but confessed to him in the break room. Russel stayed silent through it all, nodding along occasionally. Now he sat back in his armchair and crossed his arms.

“Well, I knew you two were fuckin’ but I had no idea about all that other shit,” he said finally, startling Stu.

“Y-you  _ knew _ ?” he squealed, blushing. Russel laughed slightly.

“You two aren’t exactly quiet D. And besides, I’ve been watching you two fawn over each other for decades.” 2D blushed harder.

“S-sorry, Russ,” he apologized and Russel laughed again, waving him off. 

“Don’t sweat it D, I’ve got pretty good headphones. That’s not what I’m worried about,” he paused, looking unsure. 

‘Whaddaya mean, Russ?” 2D asked. He was glad the larger man wasn’t angry at him for all the noise. Russel was a gentle person normally, but when he got angry he  _ really _ got angry.

“Well from what you’ve told me Murdoc’s a lot more unstable than I realized. I worried about what he might do after your fight,” he explained. 2D nodded with a guilty look on his face. 

“I shouldn’ta lef’ him there on his own.” Russel shook his head and stood.

“Nah, it’s not your fault D, you can’t be expected to do everything perfectly all the time.” He grabbed his jacket from the peg. They’d only been home an hour. “I’m going to go out and drive around, see if I can find him. You stay here in case he comes back, ok?”

“O-Ok Russ. Thanks for doin’ this.” Russel shrugged and gave 2D a half-smile.

“He’s my friend too. He’s important to all of us.” With that, he walked out leaving Stu alone in the living room.

“Bloody hell Muds,” he whispered to himself. He was torn between being extremely worried for the bassist and pissed that he’d once again he’d made it all about him. Couldn’t they have one outing where Murdoc didn’t entirely derail the situation?

Most likely he was out at some pub getting drunk. Maybe he’d find a nice bird to shag, and this whole sex-friends thing could be behind them. The idea didn’t sit quite right with Stu, the idea of Murdoc with another person despite the fact that 2D himself had called off their arrangement himself just hours before. He just… he didn’t know what to do with the bassist and all these feelings. With a groan, 2D got up and headed upstairs in search of something to give him some relief from the stress. 

His good migraine pills had run out a few days ago, and he’d been making do with some of the other assortment he kept for “emergencies”. Now though he wanted to take a few and zone out, maybe smoke some pot, and forget today had ever happened. A handful of pills and one joint later 2D was back in the living room, zoned out in front of the TV with some slasher flick playing. 

An insistent buzzing noise broke him from his daze. Things felt like they were moving in slow motion as he picked up the phone and saw a number of texts from Russel, and none from Murdoc. 

_ No sign of him around our area, going to check the pubs _

_ Still nothing, has he come home yet? _

_ 2D, are you there? _

Sluggishly he texted back.  _ Yeah, he’s not here.  _ 2D tossed his phone to the side again and gazed out the window, where it was getting dark. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting on the sofa and he didn’t think it even mattered. Murdoc would turn up when he wanted, and not a second before. The drugs were stopping him from being too worried about what might happen. 

The TV continued to play, but 2D wasn’t watching anymore. He was a hundred feet above his body, soaring through the clouds among the birds. He didn’t have a care in the world, and nothing that happened today mattered. Everything was fine. There was no hospital drama or feelings to deal with, just never-ending peacefulness. 2D thought back to the earlier years of the band, when he was this high all the time; he missed it. 

He’d only stopped due to the forced sobriety of Plastic Beach. Sure Murdoc had brought some of his pills along but between the stress of being held captive and the fear of the whale they hadn’t lasted long. Being sober for those long months had convinced him of two things; that he could be sober if he wanted to, and that he never, ever wanted to be  _ that _ sober again. Since coming back and working on their newest album he’d picked up a lot of his bad habits again, but he’d also been more aware of what he’d been taking, more careful. Except for now, that is. 

The sun had completely set by the time Russel came back. 2D was still on the sofa, zoned out when the bang of the door startled him. Russel stomped through to the living room and sat down beside him tiredly.

“Nothing. No sign of him at any of use usual bars, or on the streets. I even checked some liquor stores,” he sighed, sinking down into the cushions. 2D starred for a moment, the snapped back into focus. 

“Oh yeah, Murdoc. Yeah, I’m s-sure he’ll be back soon,” 2D answered. Russel shot him a weird look. 

“What’s up with you, D? You were pretty worried about him when I left.” He leaned in closer, inspecting 2D with a practised eye. “You’re fuckin’ high, aren’t you?”

Again, 2D took a moment to process the information before scowling. “So what if I am?”

“Whatever man, just thought you were better than that now.” Russel went to stand. “I thought maybe you were actually really worried about Muds.”

“I am!” Stuart protested. “I-I’m jus’ so sick of everythin’ being about him all the damn time!” Russel turned to him. He looked more tired than 2D had seen him in a long time. 

“I am too D, but I think he really needs help this time.” 2D slumped in defeat, knowing Russel was right. Murdoc had been flirting with death for years, ever since the band broke up after El Manana. Thinking back to Plastic Beach 2D couldn’t count the number of times he’d found the other man drunk, high, and sobbing overlooking the sea.

“I know,” Stu sighed. “I’m jus’ really tired of it all Russ.”

“Me too D. Why don’t you go on to bed and get yourself sorted out?” 2D nodded and stood as well, reaching out to hold onto Russel’s arm when the world tilted. It would be nice to spend some time alone for the first time in over a week. 

“Yeah, OK Russ. Lemme know if he shows up yeah?” Russel nodded and 2D made his way to his bedroom. He flopped face down on the messy bed and closed his eyes, feeling every cell in his body calling out for sleep. Distantly he felt anxiety over Murdoc not being home but before he could worry about it, he was drifting off.

* * *

 

Russel sat back down in front of the TV with a mug of coffee and some cookies he found in the cupboards. After driving around for hours, and with a possibly long night of waiting ahead, he figured he deserved a treat. He settled in to flick through the channels, hoping there was something decent on. 

He eventually settled on a rerun of Full House. Barely watching the TV he checked his phone every few minutes, hoping for some word from Murdoc. The bassist hadn’t replaced his phone since he smashed it, but Russel hoped that some fan might catch a glimpse of him and post on Twitter. So far, there’d been nothing. 

Instead of letting it get him down though, he tried to focus on the good. Noodle had been awake and responding to them at the hospital, something Russel had worried would never happen. He’d tried to keep up a positive outlook for 2D and Murdoc but in the back of his mind he’d feared the worst. Noodle was like his daughter, he’d tried to raise her right and keep her safe all these years, and he’d failed time and time again. 

But he tried not to think like that anymore. His therapist, the one he’d been seeing since after Plastic Beach, told him he couldn’t protect everybody all the time. That sometimes he needed to protect himself first, and the others second. He was still working on that.

Eventually, it started getting later and later and Russel was starting to lose hope that they’d see the bassist at all that night when the front door started rattling. The tell-tale sound of keys missing the lock, again and again, echoed through the front hall. Russel got up to let Murdoc in, knowing that if he was as drunk as expected, it might take him until dawn just to get the door unlocked. Swinging it open he took in the view of the bassist slumped against the doorway.

Murdoc was a mess. He was unsteady on his feet, wavering from side to side even with the door the steady him. Despite the cold outside sweat was dripping down his face, and his coat was wide open. Russel moved to the side and waved him in, staying close in case he fell over. 

“Fuck Muds you look awful,” he said as the other man stumbled inside. Murdoc didn’t say anything back, instead choosing to amble into the kitchen. Russel rolled his eyes and followed, knowing the kind of trouble Murdoc could get into while like this. 

“Are you just drunk, or are you high too?” he asked as the bassist rifled through the fridge. Judging by the unintelligible grunting he got as a response, he assumed both. 

“What’d you take, Muds? Do I need to be worried?” Murdoc pulled a bottle of liquor from the fridge and popped the cap off, taking a large gulp. Russel tried to grab it from him, but the other man managed to dodge. “Seriously man? I’m tryin’ to talk to you.”

“F’off,” Murdoc mumbled, deciding the table was too far away and sitting on the floor. Russel wasn’t sure what to do with the sulking man. Usually 2D or Noodle were the ones to talk Murdoc down during a bender, with Russel in the background to supply the muscle if needed. The Satanist still had a sort of fearful respect for him ever since he broke his nose back at Kong. 

“Murdoc, what did you take tonight?” he tried again, kneeling down on the floor as to not loom over the other. Murdoc fidgeted with the bottle and avoided looking at the drummer. 

“Dunno, prob’ly some speed, an’ some pills,” he answered finally. Russel heaved a sigh.

“How long ago, how much?” he pressed, worried there might be another hospital trip in the near future. 

“Loads,” Murdoc said, laughing a little. “As m-much as I could g-get mate.” He took another pull from the bottle before Russel managed to snatch it back.

“OK, that’s enough. I’m already goin’ to have to watch you all night I don’t need you puking as well.” Murdoc didn’t answer. Russel groaned as he stood up and put the bottle on top of the fridge where the shorter man couldn’t reach, then held a hand out. “Come on, let's get you to the sofa at least before you pass out.”

Murdoc took the hand with a sneer and allowed himself to be lead into the living room. Russel dumped him none too gracefully on the couch and sat back down in his chair. The bassist lay face down on the sofa, motionless. Unsure if he should be letting Murdoc sit like that in case he suffocated, Russel watched over him closely. 

“Russ…” Murdoc said quietly. “I dunno w-w-what I did wrong this t-time.”

“What do you mean?” That was the most coherent thing Murdoc had managed since he got in the door. 

“With D.” Murdoc didn’t say anymore but Russel got the gist. He hadn’t wanted to get in the middle of this but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. 

“I dunno man, I don’t think D even knows,” he answered. Murdoc shuffled around on the sofa until he was face up, staring at the ceiling. Russel thought that for once he looked his age.

“I think I migh’ l-l-lo--” he gagged and choked a bit in the middle of his sentence and Russel wished he’d thought to bring a bucket. “I th-think I really like him Russ.”

What was he supposed to say to  _ that _ ? Luckily Murdoc didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon. “I-I f-fucked up so many times b-but he said--he said he  _ forgave me _ and--”

Murdoc started crying then, something, outside of the last week, Russel had never really seen him do. He wasn’t sure what he should do, in general, he knew Murdoc hated being touched, but the man was also tearing up on their sofa. “Murdoc…”

“A-and now h-he-he  _ hates me _ ,” Murdoc sobbed, throwing a hand over his eyes dramatically. Russel considered going upstairs to grab 2D, but given his state earlier it wasn’t likely he’d be sober enough to have a conversation, let alone face Murdoc. 

“I don’t think he hates you, Muds. It’s just complicated,” Russel said, trying to be comforting. It didn’t work, and Murdoc continued to cry. Feeling lost, he watched as the bassist sobbed, gradually petering off into quite sniffled and moans. “Come on man, let’s get you up to bed yeah?”

Russel helped Murdoc stand, then walked him up the stairs. Murdoc was floppy and uncoordinated and a few times Russel had to bodily lift the man to get him going in the right direction. When they got to the top of the stairs Murdoc walked himself to his bedroom as Russel followed, wanting to make sure the other went to his own bed and not 2D’s. When he passed over the singer’s door for his own, Russel breathed a sigh of relief. 

“You goin’ to be ok by yourself Muds?” Russel asked. Murdoc shrugged and landed face down on the bed, like the sofa, with a grunt. “Ok, well I’ll come check on you later.”

“Russ…” Russel turned around to see the bassist looking over at him. He paused to let him continue. “D’you think… d’you think I h-have a chance?”

The drummer thought for a moment. “I think D really cares about you, and that you really care about him. Other than that I don’t know.” Murdoc sighed and rolled over on the bed, still wearing his jacket and boots. Russel assumed that was the end of their conversation and he retreated to his own room for the night. Hopefully both men would be sober in the morning and able to work this out.


	18. Redemption

Stuart woke up groggy, disoriented, and with a pressing need for a piss. He was well versed in the art of hangover bathroom trips and he managed to get to the toilet without much problem. Wrapping things up quickly he leant over the sink to wash up, gazing idly into the mirror. The bags under his eyes looked worse than normal and he looked a little pale, even for him. 

Bits and pieces of last night came back to him as he stared. He’d taken a lot of pills, and most of the night was a blurry mess. He remembered that Murdoc hadn’t come home, and Russel was out looking for him but after that, it was all a fuzzy. The easiest way to know if the problem had resolved itself was to check Murdoc’s room. The singer shuddered.

OK, he could do this. Murdoc probably wasn’t even awake, he could just crack the door open, peek inside, then go back to hiding in his room. It was only once he left his room and was standing with his hand on the doorknob to the bassist's room that he realized he was shirtless and dressed only in his sleeping pants. Oh well, Murdoc had seen him in worse. 

The door creaked open quietly as 2D looked inside. Luckily the bedside lamp was on, and 2D could see the shape of the bassist sleeping tangled in the sheets. Relief swept through the singer like a wave. Murdoc was home and safe. 2D hadn’t realized how worried he actually was until he saw the other man there. The urge to walk in and crawl into bed beside the man was strong, but then he remembered their argument the day before and closed the door, walking back to his bedroom. 

He’d meant what he said yesterday. Whatever was going on between them was a mistake. He knew that he’d been sending out mixed signals lately--he was confused himself--but when Murdoc had brought up their relationship he knew he had to put a stop to things. 2D wished he’d been able to do it at a better time but now that he knew the bassist was home, he figured that everything turned out alright. 

But… why did he feel like he’d lost something? There was an aching in his chest that he could only attribute to his argument with Murdoc. He should be happy that Noodle was awake and talking, that she was going to be ok! But instead he was acting like a love-sick teenager who’d had his first breakup--and they hadn’t even been dating! 

“Get it together, Stu,” he whispered to himself, sitting idly at his keyboard. There were papers full of notes and music all over the bench and floor, some in his writing, others in Murdoc’s. They’d been going over some of 2D’s song ideas for the past week, making notes and goofing off. He reached down and grabbed a random one, setting it on the holder and beginning to play.

It was one of the songs he’d written in his journal, currently untitled and only half formed. The only lyrics he had so far was for a chorus and he sang those quietly to the audience of his empty bedroom.

_ “I will always think about you. That's why I'm calling you back on my way through. _

He paused to scribble a few notes for his future self on the paper before shuffling it back into a random pile. Music writing didn’t hold the same spark it did when Murdoc was around to listen. 

He checked the time and realized it was well into the afternoon. Russel would be awake for sure, and 2D knew he should go apologize for his behaviour the night before. There was no good reason for him to get so high and leave Russel to sort everything out himself. 

With a groan, he stood from the bench and left his room, though not before reaching into his pill stash and popping a couple painkillers. Not as many as the night before, but enough to fill him with a comfortable warmth once they kicked in. Stuart ambled down the hall to the drummer's room and knocked. Immediately he heard a “come in”.

“Hey Russ,” he said, standing sheepishly in the doorway. “I wanted t’say sorry for last night…”

Russel was seated in his reading chair, a book open on his lap. He looked up at 2D and the singer felt guilty at the large, dark circles under his friend's eyes. “Thanks, D.  I’m not gonna say it’s fine, but thanks for apologizing.”

2D took a seat on the bed. “How’d everythin’ go las’ night?” Russel shrugged. 

“He came home himself eventually, completely wasted.” Russel closed the book and set it aside. “Said he’d been doin’ more than just drinkin’ so I spent most of the night checkin’ up on him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He was really upset about your fight yesterday.” Overwhelming guilt crept through 2D’s system. He didn’t want to make the bassist upset, but he also didn’t know how to fix things.

“You think I should go make it up to him?” he asked. Russel was usually the level headed one of the bunch and Stu was hoping he could tell him what to do.

“To be honest D,” Russel began, “whatever’s between you and Murdoc is your business, and you gotta deal with that yourself. I don’t think I can tell you want to do.”

2D scuffed his socks against the floor. “But, say you were me. What would you do?”

Russel looked at him, raising a brow. “D I’ve punched Murdoc in the face  _ multiple _ times. Do you think I’d even get to this point?”

“Good point, nevermind,” 2D answered, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Sorry I’m putting all this shit on you, Russ.”

Russel shook his head. “It’s alright D, I get it.”

Changing the subject, 2D perked up. “What are you up to today then?”

“Not a lot, reading. Might go out later.” 2D’s interest peaked.

“Where had you been goin’ so often Russ, you got a sweetheart?”

Russel flushed a little, looking away. “I mostly go on walks around town to avoid hearin’ you and Murdoc screwin’ each other's brains out."

He should have seen that one coming. Russel was quiet, but he knew how to throw down with the best of them. “Fair enough, sorry again.”

“It’s fine D. Maybe try to keep it down past 10?”

2D smirked. “No promises.” He stood up. “Guess I shouldn’t put this off anymore. Thanks again.”

“Good luck D,” Russel said, waving.

The hallway had never looked for long. The space between Russel’s room and Murdoc’s couldn’t have been more than 20 feet, but to 2D it looked like a monumental hike. He really,  _ really _ didn’t want to deal with Murdoc right now, and he was sure Murdoc didn’t want to deal with him. Was he really going to walk into the Satanists room, wake him up, and demand answers?

The bedroom door was right in front of him, and 2D didn’t allow himself the luxury of hesitating. The bassist was still sleeping, fully clothed. Russel’s charity must have run out after getting him to bed. The singer wasn’t really sure where to go from here; as usual, he didn’t have a plan. He knew that if he woke Murdoc up, he better have a good reason. But he really,  _ really _ didn’t think this through, so instead, he tiptoed to the bed and slid into the warm comfort of the bassist's bed.  It was easy to pretend that yesterday hadn’t happened when he was wrapped up in the warm blankets. Curling onto his side, facing Murdoc, Stuart could feel the other’s stale breath against his cheek. With extreme care, he lifted an arm and placed it around Murdoc’s waist. He was surprised when Murdoc didn’t wake up but instead snuggled in closer to the embrace. 2D felt his cheeks heat at the sight. 

He could have this, every morning, if he wanted. He was pretty sure that Murdoc wanted that too, but the memories of how Murdoc used to treat him not that long ago were holding him back. It was almost like they were two different people, the Murdoc he knew now, who was trying to be better, and the Murdoc he used to know, who hit him and kept him on that rotten island. 2D still had nightmares tinted bubblegum pink and echoing with whale noises.

Murdoc twitched in his sleep, his arm reaching out and grabbing onto Stu’s pant leg. Sleeping like this it was hard to imagine him as he’d been on Plastic Beach. 2D wasn’t sure how much of the beach Murdoc even remembered, he’d been awfully drunk and awfully mad. Any time someone brought it up around the bassist he either laughed it off or got in a mood and walked out. 2D wasn’t sure how to talk to him about it without causing a blowout, but it was becoming increasingly clear that he’d have to, and soon. 

But for the time being, Murdoc was asleep, and Stuart was warm. The important stuff could wait a little while.

* * *

Murdoc woke up warm, but incredibly uncomfortable. His jeans--why was he wearing his jeans in bed?-- were digging into his hips and he still had his shoes on for some reason. He thought back but everything after he’d found some teenager selling drugs in an ally off the high street was a complete blank. Obviously, he’d made it home, and he’d either dragged himself up to bed and passed out, or one of his bandmates had done it for him. Judging by the fact he was still fully dressed in his day clothes and boots, it’d been Russel.

As he began to toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position, he realized he wasn’t alone in the bed. Had he brought home a bird? Maybe it was that lanky bloke he remembered talking to outside the second pub. Either way, he really didn’t want to deal with a clingy one-night-stand and he was about to tell them to get the fuck out when he spied a shock of blue hair peeking out from the comforter. 

Murdoc was afraid to breathe. What the hell was 2D doing in his bed? He remembered them having a fight yesterday, or more accurately, he remembered trying to be honest with the singer for once and 2D shooting him down. He remembered feeling the world fall out from underneath him in that break room and then spending the rest of the night trying to forget that feeling. Thought things were fuzzy he didn’t think they made up last night, so what was he doing in Murdoc’s bed?

Normally, this would be a good sign. A pretty face in his bed after a night of binging was usually a good thing, especially now that he’d admitted to feeling  _ something _ for the singer. But it was soured by the fact that as far as he knew 2D had rejected him completely and utterly. Did the singer still want to be friends with benefits? Murdoc wasn’t sure if he could handle that, now that he’d had a little taste of so much more. Finally able to move he peeled back the covers to reveal 2D’s sleeping face and hands curled under his chin. He looked like an angel. 

So badly, Murdoc wanted to curl into the singer, wake him up and ask 2D to hold him as they both drifted back to sleep. Instead, he settled for shimmying close enough to feel the warmth from the other man, reaching out a hand to thread his fingers through the others. Was this going to be the last time he had the chance to do this, would he ever get the chance to be this close to Stuart again? A nagging, sinking feeling told him there was a good chance of that happening. 

2D murmured in his sleep and Murdoc hushed him. “Shh, love. Get some rest,” he whispered, kissing his forehead ever so gently. The singer settled down with a slight smile on his face and Murdoc allowed himself to smile back, just a little. He wanted to commit every inch of this moment to memory so that when the other did wake up and leave him for good and Gorillaz was over, he’d have something to think back on. 

He stayed like that for a long while, letting the singer drool all over his pillow in a fit of uncharacteristic kindness. Occasionally 2D would move around, or mumble in his sleep and each time Murdoc felt his adrenaline kick in. By the time the other man did rejoin the world of the conscious, Murdoc was an anxious mess. 

“Mmm what time is it?” 2D asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. Murdoc shrugged; he hadn’t checked the time when he woke up, too shocked to find the singer in his bed. 

“Wait, what am I doin’ here?” Ah, there it was. Maybe the singer had been smashed as well, and wandered into Murdoc’s room by mistake? Wouldn’t be the first time. 

“How the hell should I know, faceache?” Stuart flinched at Murdoc’s tone. He sat up and Murdoc tried not to let his eyes wander over his bare chest. 

“I-I’m sorry Muds. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 2D stuttered, looking away. Murdoc continued to frown as he sat up as well, coming face to face with the singer. His nervous posture made Murdoc wanted to reassure him, but the pain of yesterday’s rejection was still too fresh. 

“Well, get out then,” he snapped, fists clenched in the sheets. Anger, resentment, those were things he could understand, things he could use. 

“B-but I…”

Murdoc bristled. “You what, Stuart? Did you wanted another go at me, another chance to tell me to fuck off?”

2D shook his head quickly. “N-no, Muds I--” but Murdoc interrupted, angry now. 

“Then what do you want! Y-you know how I feel, so why are you makin’ this harder?” the bassist shouted. He was getting emotional now. “Why won’t you just go?”

2D was quiet, so Murdoc continued. “You can’t have it both ways, Stu.”

“I know,” he answered, head bowed. “I jus’ wanted to talk.”

“Then talk.”

Murdoc waited, his temper simmering under the surface. 2D didn’t look like he knew what to say, opening and closing his mouth a few times. 

“I-I like you, Murdoc, you’re my best mate,” he began, “and I think we made a right mess of things, sleepin’ together.”

“You think?” Murdoc interrupted again and 2D frowned.

“B-but I also think that maybe you’re right,” the singer looked up, “there’s something between us. It's been there from the beginin’ and we’ve been ignorin’ it.”

Murdoc stayed silent, waiting for the other to continue. “It’s so fucked up though, because y-you used to hit me, and y-you kept me on that fuckin’ island. You hurt me, Murdoc, so many times.”

Murdoc’s chest ached. He had hurt the singer, he knew that, just like he knew he didn’t deserve the other man’s attention. “I know, Stu. A-and I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re tryin’ to be better, but it’s a little messed up, me lovin’ someone who hurt me so bad.” Murdoc’s eyes widened as 2D blushed at his slip-up. 

“D I--” 2D held up his hand, telling Murdoc he wasn’t finished. 

“I-I don’t know what to do, Murdoc. Last night I was so worried about you, but I was so angry too. Sometimes I don’t know if I love you, or hate you.” Tears were forming in the corners of the younger man’s eyes. Murdoc took the risk and reach out, weaving his fingers between the singers. He had to do something right now to fix this. If he didn't, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. 

“I’ve been thinkin’,” Murdoc began quietly, “y-you said somethin’ about findin’ a doctor to talk to, one of those psych tossers.” He looked up at the singer, catching his eye. He wanted to let 2D know he was serious. “I’ll go with you, o-or on my own. If you want.”

“You will?” Stu asked, surprised. Murdoc nodded. 

“You know I’m not good at talkin’ about things,” the bassist paused, “but I think… I think there’s something good between us. And, there’s something in me that’s all twisted up and bad but I-I’d be willing to try, if you are.”

2D looked thoughtful, his brow furrowed and the tip of his tongue peeking out between his teeth. It was criminally cute and made Murdoc want to scoot closer, but he wasn’t sure if that would be appreciated. Instead, he tightened his grip on the singer's hand and waited.

“Muds…” the singer sighed, staring down at their hands. “Do you really mean that?”

Murdoc nodded, bringing their hands up to his chest, practically hugging them. “D, I promise. I don’t want to fuck up again. I-I can’t lose you or the band.”

2D continued to stare at their hands. Murdoc hoped he believed him, though a small part of him still insisted he didn’t deserve it. But he was  _ so close _ . So close to breaking through all the self-hatred and shit and starting to heal. 

Finally, 2D looked up. The tears from before had dried, and he had an almost comical stoic expression on his face. “OK.”

“OK?” He’d been hoping, but he hadn’t expected the singer to actually agree. 

“Yeah, OK. If you’re serious--”

“I am!” Murdoc interrupted, desperate to make thing singer understand that this time, against all the odds, he was telling the truth.

2D smiled a little, but quickly sobered. “But it can’t be like it was before. You can’t beat on me, or call me nasty things.” Murdoc shook his head. He didn’t want to hurt 2D ever again and he knew, looking at the other man in that moment, that if he did it’d be the end of everything. 

“I’m goin’ to be better this time D.” He didn’t know how exactly, but he was going to try. 2D nodded and looked again to their joined hands. He was leaning in a little, the stoop of his shoulders making him look older and more tired than he should have. Murdoc leaned in as well, angling himself so their hands and his chest was pressed right up against the other’s side as close as possible. Even though 2D had said OK, he wasn’t sure if it was alright to move forward. Luckily, Stu took charge and closed the gap, tipping the bassists head back and kissing him. To Murdoc, it felt like a new start, a chance at redemption that he couldn’t afford to waste. 


	19. Trust

Kissing Murdoc felt different to 2D now that they’d talked. It didn’t solve all their problems and a lot of the worries he’d had were still there, but at least they’d talked things out a little. And besides, the bassist was practically melting in his arms; how could he pass up an opportunity like that?

“Stuart…” Murdoc sighed. 2D kissed him again with a bit more force running his tongue against the other’s lips in a request for access. Murdoc compiled readily, moaning quietly as Stu explored his mouth with a single-minded need. The singer could feel Murdoc’s hands fidgeting where they still held one of his. It was obvious the bassist wanted to grab on to him but was holding back. It always surprised him how gentle Murdoc could be at the strangest times. 

2D made the move for him, disentangling his hand from Murdoc’s and tightening the one at the base of his neck. His now free hand roamed over the Satanist's clothed chest, up to his face, cupping it. “I want you Muds...”

Murdoc keened into their kiss in agreement, pushing himself as close as possible to the singer. With a groan 2D slid his roaming hand under Murdoc’s sweaty t-shirt, rolling a nipple between his fingers and making the bassist moan even louder. “I want you so bad Murdoc. I want you under me, beggin’ for me.”

“Yes… D I want--” Murdoc moaned between kisses. A surge of possessiveness washed through the singer. He could have this, him and Murdoc,  _ just  _ him and Murdoc. No birds or blokes getting in the way. 2D could have the bassist all to himself every day. He moved away from the other’s lips--much to Murdoc’s displeasure--and kissed across his nose and cheeks. The Satanist closed his eyes in bliss, allowing Stuart to shower him in affection. 

“Beautiful…” the singer murmured, smoothing his fingers against Murdoc’s jawline. He smiled again as he noticed Murdoc blush at the compliment. Since they started sleeping together 2D had noticed how much Murdoc loved his soft compliments. He seemed to like them just as much as when he was rough. That gave the singer an idea.

“D’you know how handsome you are, Murdoc?” he asked, moving to kiss against the bassist's neck. 

“Course I do D, I’ve had women fawnin’ over me ah--” 2D shut him up with a sharp bite to the shoulder. 

“No I mean,” At a snail’s pace he dragged one hand down to settle at the other’s waist and the other into his hair, “d’you  _ know _ how pretty you are to me? You’re gorgeous.” Murdoc whimpered.

2D took his time, sucking and nibbling against the other’s neck and gripping his waist firmly, keeping Murdoc planted in the moment. “You’re lovely, Muds. And you’re tryin’ so hard to be better for me. I appreciate it.”

This time Murdoc really did melt into the singer, folding over to rest his head against 2D’s shoulder, breathing heavily. The electric thrum of control sparked through 2D’s veins; he had the bassist completely, he could do anything he wanted with the other man. Fantasies flew through his mind faster than he even knew was possible. One came to the forefront, and he wrapped his arm around the other, smiling deviously. 

He allowed Murdoc a few sweet seconds to resting against his shoulder before he pulled back and slipped off the bed. The bassist watched him, a look of confusion, then sadness on his face. 2D realized the other probably thought he’d changed his mind and was leaving. He was quick to shoot the other a reassuring smile. “I’ll be righ’ back. Why don’tcha get undressed for me, love?”

Murdoc visibly relaxed as he nodded in understanding. As 2D left the room he caught a glimpse of the bassist shucking his shirt over his head. The singer almost regretted telling him to get undressed, but when he remembered what he was going to get from his bedroom he reasoned it was worth it. Using the full advantage of his long strides, 2D hustled into his room and to the closet. Deep inside near the back, he pulled out a cardboard box and a plastic shopping bag. It’d been a while since he thought about either, but he knew Murdoc would enjoy them. 

Within ten minutes he was back in the bassist’s bedroom. Just before entering he slowed down and took a few deep breaths. He wanted to look composed and in control when he walked back in. As he did, he got to take in the sight of Murdoc, completely naked and hard, laying back against the pillows. At first, he looked nervous, but 2D watched as he noticed him walk in and his whole demeanour changed. Murdoc was obviously trying to look more in control than he actually was. 

Stifling a giggle the singer made his way toward the bed, crawling up on his knees to hold himself over the Satanist. He was close enough to see Murdoc’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed heavily, and to see the sweat on his forehead. Sitting up so he was balanced on his knees, 2D threw the box and bag down on the bed, tossing the top off the box and reaching inside. Murdoc watched him curiously, his eyes lighting up when the singer pulled out a pair of padded leather cuffs.

“Mmmm bondage? Kinky?” he joked, raising his hands above him to the headboard without 2D’s instruction. “You gonna make good on that promise to tie me down and fuck me?”

“Somethin’ like that,” 2D said with a smirk, leaning over the bassist again to secure his hands to the headboard. He took a moment to admire the older man spread out underneath him, trapped by the handcuffs. His eyes wandered down Murdoc’s chest, past his belly to his cock, which was still hard despite the waiting. 2D turned back to what he’d brought and pulled a long strip of fabric, bright red and silky, from the bag, dangling it over the other’s chest. Murdoc flinched away from the cloth of a snort. 

“That tickles!”

Stu filed the information away for later and leaned down again, bringing the cloth up to his face. He gently laid it over Murdoc’s eyes and coaxed it around his head, tying it tight enough to stay in place, but loose enough not to be uncomfortable. Murdoc didn’t put up a fuss, but his body did stiffen slightly, making 2D pause. 

“OK?” he asked the bassist. Murdoc took a few moments to respond, which worried him. “Murdoc?”

“Y-yeah, it’s OK,” the older responded finally. He still seemed stiff and a little on edge, so 2D leaned down and kissed him. 

“You’re safe with me, Murdoc,” he whispered to the other soothingly. He continued to kiss and stroke him gently until the other seemed to calm down, sighing into 2D’s mouth. When he deemed the bassist calm enough he pulled back, delving once again into the plastic bag and coming back with some lube, a vibrator, and a soft feather. Playfully he dragged the feather over Murdoc’s hard prick, causing the other to buck against the handcuffs. 

“W-what?” Murdoc wheezed out, his legs tensing and relaxing as 2D ran the feather over him again. 

“Careful love. Those cuffs are padded but you don’t wanna hurt your arms or nothin’,” 2D admonished as Murdoc struggled.

“I’d be careful if you weren’t--ngh--teasing me like that!” he whined, kicking his legs in irritation. Stu watched the childish display, then set the feather aside reaching for the vibe. “Finally, come-on Dents jus’ fu-ahh--”

The singer laughed darkly as he dragged the powered-on, cock-shaped vibrator along the length of Murdoc’s prick. The bassist seized and arched his back, a deep moan ripping from his chest. “Aw Muds, am I teasin’ you too much?”

“Stu!” He continued running the vibe up and down, revelling in the way Murdoc twisted and turned. It was like he couldn’t get enough but also wanted to get away at the same time. 

“God, look at you Muds. So needy, so pretty,” the singer praised as he kept teasing. 

“Stu, please! Please, I need--ah!--I need more!” Murdoc begged. Feeling kind, the singer turned the vibe off and leaned down, pressing his still clothed body to Murdoc’s naked one. 

“You want me to fuck you, Muds?” he asked, brushing his lips against the bassist’s as he did. Murdoc nodded, craning his neck to extend their kisses. 

“Ye-yeah. I do D,” Murdoc agreed. 2D kissed him again, then pulled back again. In an uncharacteristic moment of gracefulness, he pulled off his shirt and threw it to the side, only a little peeved that he’d blindfolded the other. For a moment he considered not continuing with his plan because Murdoc looked so aroused and uncomfortable. But he shook himself out of it, and picked up the lube and squirted some out on his fingers. 

“I’m gonna touch you now, be still,” he warned, caressing the other’s thigh with his clean hand. Murdoc went still, though he couldn’t help the trembling in his legs as 2D began to insert a finger. The singer thought it was kind of cute, how worked up Murdoc was, especially since all he’d really done was tie him up and touch his prick a little. 

He thrust his single digit in and out of the bassist at a slow, leisurely pace. At first, Murdoc behaved himself, keeping his hips still even as his head tossed back and forth on the pillow. But eventually the slow pace began to frustrate him and his hips began to twitch and thrust against the fingers inside him. 2D was amused but immediately withdrew, grinning like a maniac. 

“Murdoc…” he admonished, pretending to be disappointed. “I told you to stay still, love.”

“I-I-I did!” the bassist whined. 2D was quick to reach forward and give the other’s flank a sharp slap in warning. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he ordered. Murdoc jerked from the slap, his body twisted away from the impact even as he whimpered from its sharpness. 2D let him writhe for a few seconds before taking his hips in his large hands and pinning them back in place. “So badly behaved…”

“S-sorry!” Murdoc gasped. It was obvious he was loving being manhandled and 2D filed that away for later. He never would have guessed in his wildest dreams that Murdoc could be so submissive, and look so good doing it as well. 

“Looks like I’ll have to tie your legs down too, then,” Stu said, sighing dramatically just to watch the way it made Murdoc squirm. He reached into the bag again and pulled out a pair of ankle cuffs, making quick work of securing the other’s legs in a spread-eagled position. “There, that’s better, don’t you think?”

Murdoc didn’t answer and immediately 2D was honing in on the bassist’s face and body language. His posture was stiff, though that may have had something to do with being all tied up, and his head was turned away into the pillow. As he got closer 2D could see tear tracks against the silk blindfold and the slight tremor running through his body.

“Murdoc, are you ok?” he asked, moving back up so he as face to face with the bassist. Murdoc nodded but didn’t relax. 2D tried again. 

“D’you need a second to catch your breath?” Murdoc nodded again, less desperately this time. 2D crawled up the bed and laid beside him, making sure not to touch the other too much in case he overwhelmed him. 

Instead, the distance between them only seemed to increase Murdoc’s discomfort. “Stu! D-don't g-go--” he begged, straining against the cuffs keeping him in place. 2D immediately scooted closer, cradling him against his chest.

“S’ok Muds, I’ve gotcha,” he whispered against the other’s ear. Murdoc shivered and whined almost without a sound, pressing back against the singer’s touch as much as he could. 2D rested one boney hand on the bassist's chest, the other one coming up to touch the handcuffs.

“Were these a bad idea?” he asked and Murdoc shrugged. “Is it somethin’ else I did?”

“No,” the bassist answered, his voice rough. “I-I like it, it’s just--”

"Too much?” Murdoc nodded. “I get it, sorry Muds.” 2D went to undo the cuffs but Murdoc pulled away.

“D’you not--ah fuck I ruined it d-didn’t I?” Even with the blindfold on 2D could tell the bassist was getting upset, so he repositioned himself to be pressed as close as possible. He watched Murdoc clench and unclench his fists, his breathing still rapid. 

“I-I-I’m fine, 2D,” Murdoc stammered, craning his neck to face the singer. 2D could still see the tears on his cheeks.

“I dunno Muds, you don’t look ok. We can stop if you want,” he offered, gently petting the other’s chest. 

Murdoc moaned weakly, shaking the cuffs. “N-no, you’re doin’ i-it again. Fuck!”

Stu was beyond confused. “I don’t get it Murd--” he was cut off by the bassist thrashing.

“That! Y-you’re being so fuckin’ n-n-nice t’me, after everythin’ I’ve done!” 2D gaped at him, completely baffled. Did Murdoc  _ want  _  him to be angry or mean? He’d already told the bassist he wasn’t going to do that. “I-I’m not  _ fuckin’ _ used to it, not fuckin’ used to  _ this! _ .”

Slowly, the singer began to understand. Blindfolds and chains Murdoc understood. Checking in and kissing and explicit, loving, consent he did not. “Oh, Muds…” He slid his hand up to cup the older’s face, brushing his thumb over his lips.

“Murdoc I’m bein’ gentle with you because  _ I love you, you idiot, _ ” he murmured, brushing away the other’s tears. “I wanna make you feel good.”

“Y-you do, you do,” Murdoc answered, kissing against Stu’s thumb.”D, I--please!”

Knowing now that Murdoc wasn’t in any pain, 2D felt comfortable reaching down and fisting his prick. “I’m the only one that can make you feel like this, aren’t I?” he asked, his grip on the other’s jaw tightening. 

“Ye-yes! Stu…!” 

“Louder, Murdoc.”

“YES!” the bassist shouted, bucking up into his grip. “O-only you Stu…”

2D rewarded him with a kiss for that, his unoccupied hand searching again for the dildo. “Good, now,” he ran the still-lubed head against the other’s hole. Murdoc tensed for a moment, then relaxed,” d’you wanna keep goin’?”

“I-If you don’t fuck me with tha’ thing soon I-I’ll--” 2D rolled his eyes but complied, easing the head of the fake cock into Murdoc’s ass. It was pretty big, bigger than his own dick, and in order to avoid over stimulating Murdoc too much, he made sure the vibration setting was off. Still, the older man whined and squirmed as 2D slowly filled him.

“Is that good, Muds?” he asked, admiring the way Murdoc’s hole stretched to accommodate the large dick. With half-lidded eyes he watched Murdoc writhe, completely unable to stay still anymore. He took a moment to slip out of his own trousers and wrap a large hand around his prick. “I bet you really, really want to come.”

“I do!” Murdoc moaned, turning his head towards 2D’s voice. The blindfold was damp with his tears and sweat. He looked thoroughly wrecked, but still, 2D pushed. 

“Mmm be good for me then, and I’ll let you,” he replied, suddenly flicking on the vibrator up to a medium setting. Murdoc screamed, twisting and thrashing in his bonds. The singer felt himself salivate a little as Murdoc’s dick twitched, precome pooling at the tip. He imagined what the other would look like painted in his come.

“Fuck Muds, look at you,” he said breathlessly. Murdoc whimpered as he tried to bear down against the dildo, trying to get more friction. Unfortunately for him, Stu knew exactly how tight to make the bonds to prevent any movement. “You love it don’t you? Love being a slut for me.”

“Stuart!” Murdoc bellowed, looking torn between pleasure and pain. 2D could only imagine how the other felt, so close to the edge for so long, completely helpless and unable to relieve yourself in any way. He turned up the vibe to maximum.

Murdoc keened long and high. Little moans and twitches added to the beautiful display. 2D took pity on him and angled the dildo right where it’d make him come. 

“Come on, Murdoc, come for me,” he cooed, feeling so close to the edge he could feel the fall. Murdoc, tears streaming down his cheeks, sobbed, his body jerking violently with each orgasmic spasm. To the singer, it looked almost painful, but Murdoc moaned through it, fists clenched. Just as Murdoc’s body began to calm down, 2D came into his own fist.

“Muds....” 2D gasped, pulling the vibrator out and switching it off. Murdoc relaxed all at once, slumping against the bed, his arms and legs going limp. The tremoring started in his spine, spreading outward, and before 2D even had a chance to move Murdoc was sobbing again. 

“O-oh shit Murdoc!” Scrambling up the bed face to face with the bassist he cradled the other’s face in his hands, soothing fingers over his cheekbones. “What’s wrong?”

Murdoc continued to cry, so Stu lifted the blindfold, tossing it to the floor. The bassist's eyes were red, and he blinked a few times before locking eyes with 2D.

“Just a second, let me get the cuffs off you,” 2D said, fumbling with the locks on Murdoc’s wrists before moving on to his ankles. As soon as he was free Murdoc curled inward. 2D wasn’t sure what to do, or if the other was angry at him for something. He’d looked and sounded like he’d been enjoying himself, but how could the singer know for sure? Cautiously he approached Murdoc and laid down beside him.

“Murdoc--” he started. The older cut him off with a rib-crushing hug, his messy, dark hair buried against his chest. All Stuart could do was wrap his arms around the other’s shoulders, drawing him in close. 

“I’m sorry Muds,” he apologized, threading his hand through Murdoc’s hair and gently working out the knots. The bassist shook his head, his hands roaming and pressing over Stu’s back. “Uh, I’m not sorry?”

Murdoc calmed down at this a little, though his grip on the other’s abdomen was still a little uncomfortable. Outside the door, 2D heard the stomp of Russel’s feet going down the stairs and the slam of the front door. He’d have to apologize to the drummer again later for the noise. 

“Fuck…” Murdoc took a couple deep, shaky breaths. 2D looked down to see dark eyes looking up at him and smiled slightly. 

“You alrigh’?” he asked quietly. Murdoc nodded, returning his head to the singer's shoulder.

“It was jus’...” 2D didn’t need him to finish the sentence to get what he meant. 

“Yeah, it was.”

The quiet between them was comfortable like they both knew what the other needed. Eventually though, Murdoc began to shift and fidget, so 2D let go of him and gave him some space to do what he needed. 

“Look at me, gettin’ you all snotty over a good fuck…” he said deprecatingly. 2D shook his head with a sigh. 

“S’fine Muds, I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” Murdoc answered, sitting up. 2D followed suit. “You weren’t too rough or nothin’, you coulda been rougher. I woulda let you. I’d probably like it even. You’re too good D, I’m still waitin’ for you to change your mind and leave.”

“I’m not gonna leave. If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this right.” 2D took both of Murdoc’s hands in his own.

“That’s really gay, D,” Murdoc mumbled, but 2D could see he was blushing a little. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and imagined that he was one, two, three years in the future, waking up with Murdoc beside him. It was a nice picture. Stu opened his eyes.

“D’you maybe want to go downstairs and watch some shit telly with me?” he asked, catching the bassist off guard for a moment. Murdoc then smiled, edging his way to the side of the bed and standing, giving 2D a perfect view of his back and ass. 

“That sounds great, actually.”


	20. Spaghetti

After a quick shower and change of clothes, 2D and Murdoc settled down on the living room sofa, flicking through the channels for some trashy TV. 2D had to remote and Murdoc watched, idly playing with the singer's hair. They were wrapped close together with 2D behind Murdoc, and Murdoc turned towards him and away from the TV.

“There’s nothin’ good on,” 2D complained, looking over the channels for a third time. Murdoc sighed and nuzzled in closer to the singer, not too concerned with the TV.

“Just pick somethin’, it doesn’t really matter,” he said, sliding the blue strands between his fingers. It was getting pretty long, usually, the singer kept it somewhat manageable but with everything going on with Noodle he must have not had time. 

2D settled on some old Western playing on one of the movie channels. He set the remote aside and got comfortable, wrapping one arm around Murdoc’s waist. It was an undeniably couple-ish position and Murdoc really hoped Russel was going to be out for a long time. Even if the drummer knew about him and 2D, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for real PDA yet.

“How’re your arms, Muds?” 2D asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Murdoc looked down and inspected his slightly reddened skin. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as he wanted it to. 

“They’re fine.”

2D raised an eyebrow at his dismissive tone. “And your legs?”

“Fine, D.” The singer sighed.

“Murdoc....” The Satanist held his breath and let his hands fall to his chest. He didn’t know what 2D wanted. He wasn’t used to this type of dynamic and this entire relationship was uncharted territory for him. He shifted so he was sitting up more, still avoiding the singer’s gaze.

“I’m fine, Stu. Really. I’ve had much worse.” The expression on the other’s face as a mixture of amusement, and discomfort with the implication. 

“You’re jus’ bein’ kind of quiet, not t’mention you’re lettin’ me hold you like this.”

Murdoc shifted uncomfortably. “D, I promise I’m about as OK as I’m goin’ to get. Earlier was… good. Really good.”

2D’s worried expression softened a little bit, but he still looked unconvinced. “If you say so, Muds. I trust you.”

He really did, didn’t he? Murdoc couldn’t even begin to imagine why. He’d never given the singer a reason to trust him; in fact, he’d given him a million reasons not to. Trusting him was never a smart move. He looked up at 2D and saw he was watching the TV again, glazed black eyes unfocused. Murdoc settled back down and pressed his face close to the other’s collar bone, inhaling deeply. The singer smelled like his shampoo, and the soft smell calmed his nerves.

“OK Murdoc, you’re actin’ really weird,” 2D said, flicking the mute button on the TV and looking down. “There’s got to be somethin’ on your mind.”

“For fuck’s sake 2D!” Murdoc groused. Why couldn’t the younger leave well enough alone? “I’m enjoyin’ sittin’ here with you and you’re givin’ me the third degree!”

“Oh.” So he finally got it. Murdoc refused to look up but he could hear the smile in Stu’s voice. “ _ Oh _ . You like cuddlin’ me.

“No...”

“Yes you do, you’re a cuddler, aren’t you Muds?” 2D teased. 

“Shut up, faceache,” Murdoc mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up. Luckily 2D took the hint and stopped needling him. The singer eventually unmuted the TV and went back to watching, his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on Murdoc’s hip. The bassist sighed in content and reciprocated with a few light kisses to Stu’s collarbone. Despite the warmth and security, he felt in Stu’s arms, some of those niggling fears haunted him.

“Hey, Stu?” His voice sounded shaky and mentally he cursed his over-emotional state. “D’you know if we’re goin’ back to visit N-Noodle again?”

Brows furrowed in thought, the singer paused. “I think Russel said somethin’ about goin’ back tomorrow, why?”

He hated how weak he sounded. “I-I think I might stay here, next time. I jus’...” 2D tightened his arms around the bassist.

“I’ll stay here with you,” 2D answered without hesitation. Murdoc wanted to both kiss him, and hit him. 

“D, I know you want to go see her. I’ll be OK here.”

The singer shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I can stay.” He didn’t sound very convincing. 

“For fuck sake Stu you can’t keep watch over me like a fuckin’ nanny forever--”

“S’not forever! I-it hasn’t been that long a-and jus’ yesterday you were--you were--!” 2D cut himself off with a sniff, his eyes reddening. Murdoc’s conscience--warped and twisted as it was--ached knowing he made the singer upset  _ again. _

“D…” Murdoc sighed, trying to catch his eye. 

“Don’t you ‘D’ me!” Murdoc clammed up with a wide-eyed look. The singer was still crying, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks, but he was also still angry. “I trust you Murdoc, but I don’t trust what you’ll do when you’re alone. Or high, or drunk. I can’t leave you here and risk losing you too!” 

He wanted to be angry, or indignant like he typically would be. Did 2D really think he could stop Murdoc from doing anything he  _ really _ wanted to do? But some part of him--the part that’d promised to find a fucking  _ therapist-- _ knew the singer was right. Murdoc wasn’t in the right headspace to be making promises he might not be able to keep. 

“I jus’-- fuck Stu I feel like a fuckin’ invalid with you waitin’ on me,” he admitted, using a thumb to wipe away the other’s tears. “I told you, I’m not used to  _ this. _ ” 

2D sniffed again and used his own, larger hands to wipe his face. “I know, m’sorry I’m makin’ you feel like that. I’ll try to not do that so much.”

“S’fine. Maybe I need takin’ care of.”

“Nice to hear you finally admit it.” 2D laughed and Murdoc smiled a little into his t-shirt. In the background, the movie was playing the credits but neither of them were paying any attention.

* * *

 

Noodle hadn’t been surprised when no one came to visit her the next day. The doctor had come in and explained that even though she was awake, she still needed a lot of rest. It was safest, the doctor said, if she spent as much time as possible in a quiet environment with no stressors. What the doctor was really saying was that 2D, Russel, and Murdoc couldn’t come back often, lest they get her too excited. 

That was fine though. Now that she knew what was happening it made a lot of sense, really. It would be a good time to practise her meditation, to get back in tune with herself. Sometimes her brain still got jumbled up and confused, so a lot of the time was spent thinking over the events of the past few weeks. 

She remembered going out shopping now, though the details were a little hazy. The ice cream was clearer, and she could remember the boys bickering between each other in the parking lot. Murdoc had been agitated, more-so than usual, and she hadn’t noticed that at the time. Even if he’d been better about not hitting the singer, she wasn’t surprised he’d snapped and shoved him. 2D falling into her and pushing her in front of the car had been an unfortunate side effect. 

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. Murdoc seemed to be taking it pretty hard, he’d looked a complete wreck. Not to mention how he’d bolted when they’d been visiting; she was convinced she saw tears in his eyes. Russel had explained a little bit of what was going on to her while 2D chased after the bassist, and she was grateful that he didn’t treat her like a child. He’d been careful with his words, but she got the gist of things; Murdoc had been declining before the accident, it sadly didn’t surprise her that her hospitalization had worsened his mental state. 

She sighed inwardly; she loved her family but they were mentally exhausting sometimes. Instead, she turned her attention to the bedside table where a nurse had left a cup of water on the table. Ever time they came in to check on her they gave her a little, just enough to wet her tongue. Noodle narrowed her stare at the cup, then her hand, glancing between the two. Well, if she was going to be stuck here alone, she could at least give herself a little project.

* * *

 

Daytime TV was an amazing source of mind-numbing entertainment, but even 2D got bored of it eventually. They’d both been sitting on the sofa for a few hours, mindlessly watching whatever was on, occasionally trading a few barbs about the terrible acting of day-time TV stars, but for the last hour, they’d both been quiet. Murdoc was still at his side, his head turned away from the TV and into 2D’s chest, his breathing deep and even. If it wasn’t for the fact his eyes were open the singer would have assumed he was asleep. 

It was nice, sitting quietly like this. He could almost pretend they were a regular couple, and that things weren’t completely fucked up between them. “Are you bored with the TV Muds?”

“Hmm,” Murdoc hummed, trying to press himself closer to the singer. Never in his wildest dreams would 2D have thought Murdoc was a cuddler. 

“Are you always this clingy?” he asked jokingly. The effect was immediate; Murdoc stiffened and began to move away, his eyes downcast. 2D immediately realized his mistake and tightened his hold around the bassist. “I didn’t mean that as a bad thing!”

Murdoc was scowling. “Sure you didn’t, might as well be sick of me already.”

“Jesus Christ Murdoc, I’m not going to break up with you because you like to cuddle,” 2D answered, exasperated. It was frustrating, how Murdoc could fly off the handle at the smallest things. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that Murdoc wasn’t used to being in an actual relationship. “Just come back here, please?” 

The Satanist hesitated with a suspicious look on his face. In an attempt to look as unthreatening as possible, the singer leaned back, smiling slightly. It seemed to work, and Murdoc slowly returned to his position against the other’s chest, though he was facing the TV this time. 

Neither said anything for a few moments before Murdoc’s gruff voice broke the silence. “I’m not, usually.”

“Not what?”

“I don’t usually do  _ this, _ ” he gestured between them, “with the birds and blokes I sleep with.”

“But you like it?” 2D asked, weaving his fingers between Murdoc’s. The bassist sighed and relaxed back even further.

“It’s not awful.” And 2D was happy with that. He’d lived with Murdoc long enough to be able to translate his verbal bullshit. 

“Well I’m glad spending time with me is so ‘not awful’.” Murdoc sputtered. “I’m jus’ joking, Muds.”

Murdoc was spared answering by the loud grumble of his stomach. 2D tried to think back to the last time he’d seen the bassist eat, and frowned when he realized it’s been more than a day ago.

“Come’on, get up. We need to get food.”

“But I was jus’ gettin’ comfortable,” Murdoc grumbled. The singer paid him no mind, wiggling around until he was able to get a leg over the other and stand up. He turned around and stuck out a hand expectantly. 

“I know you haven’t been eatin’ Murdoc, if I don’t make you,” he said bluntly. Murdoc was obviously trying to look unphased, but Stu stood firm. 

“You’re exaggerating,” Murdoc answered, waving him off. “I’m not hungry.”

“Is it the speed? Or somethin' like that anyway,” 2D asked bluntly. He remembered the early days when Murdoc had been manic and completely unpredictable. He hoped they’d never have to revisit that.

Murdoc was quiet for a moment, his eyes looking everywhere but Stu. “Not jus’, but it probably doesn’t help. I haven’t been really doin’ it much outside of last night an, uh, the overdose...”

2D, his hand still outstretched, wiggled his fingers. “OK. Well, we'll get somethin’ easy to eat ok?”

“Fine. But you’re cleaning up my sick if I can’t keep it down.”

Murdoc took his offered hand and let 2D pull him to his feet. Once up, he trudged into the kitchen, and the singer nearly smiled at his childish behaviour. The bassist was acting just like a child who didn’t want to eat his veggies. 

“You aren’t gonna be sick, stop bein’ so dramatic.” Stu sat down at the kitchen table and scrolled through his apps, wondering what to order. “What do you want to eat?”

“Some rum, if we have any,” Murdoc replied from the kitchen cabinets where he was rifling around. He seemed to think there might be a bottle of something hiding amongst the pot and pans.

“Other than alcohol,” 2D sighed. They’d both liked that Spanish place they’d been too, maybe he could order something like that? His finger was hovering over the Uber Eats app when he got an idea. “Why don’t we cook somthin’?”

From inside the cupboard, Murdoc laughed. “You? Cook somethin’? D, you can barely manage toast.”

“Not jus’ me,  _ us. _ I know you can cook some things.” 2D looked at the other with excitement. He thought it might be a good way to get their minds off of everything.

Murdoc emerged emptyhanded and looked at the singer. “I am  _ not _ cookin’.” He turned to the next set of cabinets and began to rifle through them.

“Please, Muds? I think it’ll be nice, and we can make some extra for Russel as an apology.”

“‘Pology for what?” Murdoc asked. 

“He, ah, he was home earlier, when we were arguin’... and after that too,” 2D said, embarrassment heating his cheeks. The bassist blanched, then sighed.

“Well I didn’t know he was skulkin’ around. Still. S’not my fault.”

“Can we please cook somthin’ Muds? I promise not to get in the way too much,” 2D whined, knowing the other man was weak to his begging. Sure enough, Murdoc pulled back from the cupboard a few moments later, looking resigned. 

“Go look in the fridge and see what we have.” 2D let out a small cheer and rushed to the refrigerator and storage. Inside was still a mess, but he managed to discover enough ingredients to make spaghetti. 

“We can make pasta, can’t we?” Murdoc, his hands on his hips, nodded. 

“The things I do for you… Go boil some water, I’m sure you can’t fuck that up too bad, right faceache?” Stu ignored the insult, choosing to focus on the fact Murdoc had given in. He dashed off to the stove happily, before realizing he needed to get a pot and water first. Murdoc groaned. “This is gonna be a nightmare.”

“No it’s not Muds, it’ll be nice to do somethin’ together that’s not fuckin’ or music.” Murdoc laughed lowly. 

“But I thought you liked havin’ sex and makin’ music?” he teased. 2D laughed as well, turning back to the stove with a pot full of water.

“I do, but I also like doin’ other stuff with you too,” Stu answered, making sure to look the bassist in the eye as he did. He knew Murdoc didn’t quite believe he wanted to be with him, and he wanted to make sure that the Satanist saw the sincerity in his eyes. 

Murdoc pulled a face, but 2D caught the hint of a smile on his lips. “Boil the water, dullard.”

2D did as he was told while Murdoc handled the rest of the preparation. It wasn’t too complicated, some sauce and a few spices, then some meat. Neither of them was aiming for Michelin Star quality. He was a firm believer of food tasting better when you made it yourself though, so he was looking forward to eating.

“Stuart!” Murdoc said, snapping him out of his daze. The water on the stove was boiling violently, and he quickly turned it down and added the pasta. With a sheepish look on his face, he turned back to Murdoc. 

“Sorry, got distracted,” he apologized. Murdoc sighed and joined him at the stove with the sauce. 

“You’re more of a hazard than a help in the kitchen, faceache,” he said. 2D tried not to get distracted again, focusing intently on the boiling water, tapping one foot to a tune stuck in his head. Murdoc stood beside him, stirring the sauce occasionally, face blank. The singer felt oddly domestic, and it reminded him of their early years. 

“D’you remember,” he started, “when we were back at Kong and Noodle made us make cookies with her?”

Murdoc thought for a few seconds before snorting. “Yeah, I do. Russel wasn’t home, so we didn’t use a recipe. Had t’feed them to the zombies.”

“They were pretty awful,” Stu agreed, shuddering. In actuality, none of them had even gotten to try a bite since the cookies had been hard as rocks. “We’re doin’ a better job with the pasta, I think.”

“ _ I’m _ doing all the hard work, you’re just standing there really,” Murdoc teased, bumping his hip against the singers. 2D felt his heart flutter at the casual contact as he bumped back. It still felt like a dream, that they were actually doing this, that they might be able to have this. “Ok, sauce is done, pasta’s done.”

2D rushed to get two bowls, filling them each equally with pasta and sauce. He handed one to Murdoc and took the other to the table. Murdoc sat beside him heavily, glaring down at the food. 

“Don’t be like that Muds, you know it’s good.  _ You _ made it after all,” he said, trying to appeal to Murdoc’s ego. It seemed to work a little, and the older man spooned some food up. 

“Of course it’s good,” he scoffed, taking a mouthful. 2D relaxed and began to eat as well, hoping that the bassist wouldn’t stop after a few bites. He turned to his own food, shovelling it into his face with gusto. “Slow down there, pretty boy. My Heimlich Maneuver is a little rusty.”

Eventually, 2D finished his bowl and went for seconds. Murdoc was still picking away at his first, but he was making process. He didn’t exactly know why Murdoc had been having so much trouble with food lately, but now that they were together--were they boyfriends? Lovers?--he felt some responsibility over him. Just as the bassist took his last bite the front door rattled open and Russel walked into the kitchen. 

“Glad to see you two at least stop for a snack break,” he joked. The drummer then noticed the messy state of the kitchen and frowned. “Wait did you two  _ actually _ cook that?”

2D nodded. “We did, kinda as an--uh--an apology for being so loud.”

“S’not you who’d the loud one D.” Murdoc choked on his pasta.

“Oi! I did most of the cookin’ here but if you’re goin’ t’be an ass--” Russel cut him off with a laugh and a hand on his shoulder. 2D watched the way the bassist tensed, then relaxed at the touch, still wary but trying to play it off. 

“Whatever man, thanks for cookin’. It actually looks edible.”

“Of course it does you--”

“You’re welcome Russ, did you have a nice walk?” 2D cut in. He really,  _ really _ didn’t want to ruin the day with arguments. Russel shrugged in response, grabbing himself a bowl and joining them at the table.

“Went down to the shops, walked around a while. Nothin’ too special.” Murdoc was silently fuming over the jab about his cooking and 2D could tell. Under the table, he snuck a hand over to the other’s knee and squeezed in what he hoped was a reassuring way. Unfortunately, Murdoc wasn’t prepared, and he let out an undignified squawk, jumping up out of his seat.

Russel immediately sighed. “Come’on guys, not at the dinner table. Keep that shit to the bedroom.” 2D sputtered and threw his hands up as Murdoc went red. Despite the embarrassment and mortification, he felt a peace inside he hadn’t experienced in quite a while.


	21. Flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This new chapter does reference Plastic Beach and the fact that Murdoc was abusive to 2D. It's right at the end of the chapter, but I wanted to make you guys aware

Unfortunately, the peace from dinner didn’t continue over to the next day. The morning started off well, Murdoc woke up beside a sleeping 2D and proceeded to wake him up with an amazing blowjob. The singer was in a great mood after that and so was Murdoc. They took a shower together and ate leftover spaghetti for breakfast. By the time they were finished, Russel had joined them at the table, making himself a much more conventional breakfast of toast and eggs.

“So, are you two comin’ with me to the hospital?” he asked. The question was casual, but Murdoc didn’t miss the way the drummer's eyes flicked to him briefly. It took the majority of his self-control not to snap defensively.

“Actually,” 2D piped up, “I think me and Muds are gonna stay here.”

“2D…” Murdoc sighed, leaning his chin on his fist. The singer frowned.

“We talked about this Murdoc…”

“I told you I don’t need a nanny!” the bassist growled. The sight of the other flinching back brought up bad memories, and Murdoc took a deep, calming breath. “D, you should go with Russel. I’ll be fine here.”

2D was fidgeting with his hands nervously, glancing between him and Russel. “I-I don’t know Muds…”

Luckily, Russel, ever the sane one, had an idea. “What if Murdoc checked in with us, while we’re out D? D’you think you could do that Muds?”

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “Fine I’ll send you a text, alrigh’?” 2D thought about it, chewing on his bottom lip. Murdoc wondered if the singer knew how much that turned him on.

“I guess, jus’ promise that you will call OK?” Not one for PDA--even if it was only in front of Russel--Murdoc put a hand on Stu’s shoulder and squeezed.

“I promise, D.” The other leaned into the touch slightly before straightening back up. Russel watched the two with a bemused look on his face, which Murdoc tried to ignore. He felt like he was under a microscope, every action scrutinized.

“We should get goin’ then, D,” Russel said, picking up his plate and taking it to the sink. “Should probably do some grocery shoppin’ too, while we’re out.”

“OK Russ,” the singer said slowly, giving Murdoc one last glance. Russel seemed to sense the tension between them and stepped out of the room to get ready. Not for the first time, Murdoc was grateful the drummer was so in-tune with their dynamic.

“It’ll be fine, Stu,” Murdoc said, getting up and wrapping his arms around the singer from behind. 2D sagged in his hold, resting his head against Murdoc’s shoulder and turning to kiss his cheek.

“I-I know, I t-trust you. It’s hard, with Noodle sick an you…”

“I know,” Murdoc interrupted. He didn’t want to hear the younger say it, didn’t want to face it right now. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, alrigh'?”

2D sniffled, getting up to hug the Satanist properly. “OK. I love you, Muds.”

Murdoc felt himself begin to blush, those three little words filling him up with so many conflicting, but mostly pleasant, emotions. “I uh--”

“S’ok, you don’t have to say it righ’ now.” What had he done to deserve such an understanding, perfect partner? The familiar feeling of guilt and inadequacy began to rise up inside him, but he managed to push it down, reminding himself that he was trying to be better this time.

“Thank you, D.”

At that point, Russel came back and reminded 2D that they needed to go. Murdoc let Stuart go, giving him a smile and a gentle push towards the door. “Go on, Bluebird. I’ll be here when you get back.” 2D nodded, his expression determined. Satan, Murdoc though, he was so adorable.

When the drummer and singer finally left, Murdoc realized he had no idea what he was going to do for the entire day. He hadn’t been alone in the house for ages, what did he even do on his own before the whole Noodle debacle? Drink and smoke, drug himself into oblivion? But he couldn’t do any of that now, not to the extent he would have liked. He was making an effort to be better.

In the end, he decided it’d be worthwhile to go up to his room and work on some music as a distraction from the silence of the house. He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge--he knew he couldn’t quit drinking cold-turkey--and headed upstairs. On the way up he saw Katsu, sunbathing on the landing. He stopped to give the cat a quick scratch behind the ears before making the rest of the trek.

Though he and 2D had cleaned his room up, it was still a monument to his degrading mental state. There were still bottles under the bed, and loose pills on the bedside table. Just the sight of the drugs made his mouth water and his brain tingle. Maybe his room wasn’t the bastion of safety he thought it might be.

His bass, the only thing he bothered to keep clean, was sitting in its stand, shining as brightly as the day he got it. Deciding that his room held too much temptation, Murdoc grabbed the instrument and turned back around. Where could he go to relax where he wouldn’t be surrounded by temptation? 2D’s room was out of the question; it was arguably full of more drugs than his own, and he didn’t feel comfortable invading Russel’s space like that. That left the living room or Noodle’s room... and he really didn’t want to drag an amp down all those stairs.

With hesitant steps, Murdoc found himself in front of his guitarist's door. It’s just a room, he told himself, there’s no reason to get worked up over it. As he was psyching himself up, Katsu walked up behind him, sauntering through the doorway without a care in the world. Murdoc watched blankly, before huffing out a quiet laugh.

“Bloody cat,” he mumbled, following it into the room. No one had been in there for long since the night Murdoc overdosed, and the room was just as Noodle had left it. Unfortunately, Noodle had taken after Murdoc and 2D when it came to cleaning, though she did at least, throw out her garbage. But Murdoc tried not to think about that; he was determined that today would be fine. So he placed his beer on the bed and dragged an amp close enough to plug his bass in, beginning with a warm-up. Katsu curled up beside him, more than used to the thumping bass lines filling the house.

He played through all their hits as a warmup, the deep bass tones resonating through his entire being. The vibrations calmed him more than the beer did, and he soon found himself noodling around with random notes, looking for bass lines that would work on their new album. He thought about the song 2D had been working on and tried to find something to match. It was pointless though without the singer around to let him know if he was on the right track or not. Eventually, he got bored of playing and tossed El Diablo to the side, flopping down on his back on Noodle’s bed.

Satan, what did people do with all their free time? Checking his phone he saw only two hours had passed, and that 2D had sent him a couple texts. They were mostly harmless, the younger wanted to know what he was up to, and one was a picture of Stu in an elevator, giving a peace sign. Murdoc saved the picture to his phone and sent a selfie in response. The entire exchange felt incredibly, wonderfully domestic.

Noodle’s bed was warm, soft, and clean. Murdoc fumbled around in the sheets for his beer and he cracked the last one open, paying special care not to spill any. He had a light buzz going and felt surprisingly calm surrounded by his youngest bandmates possessions. Noodle had a good eye for decorating, and the bassist had always been a little jealous of how amazing her room looked. He wondered if she’d be upset if she knew he was hanging out in here and drinking without her, but decided it didn’t really matter. It would be just one of many things he had to apologize for when he saw her again.

That was a big reason why he didn’t want to go with the others today. Murdoc knew that he’d fucked up, even if everyone forgave him. It was because of his temper this entire thing had happened. He wanted to be better, but he didn’t know how. The fear that if he went to go see Noodle again so soon he’d freeze up was so strong that even safe at home it made his stomach clench.

Katsu interrupted his growing anxiety attack by butting her head against Murdoc’s hand. The bassist gave her a few scratches, listening to her purr. He understood why Noodle liked sleeping with the cat now, it’s presence was comforting.

“Where should I even start?” he asked. The cat meowed and lay back down. He’d promised to go see a psychiatrist with 2D, but how did he find one? Would they put him on medication? Murdoc shuddered at the memory of prison in Mexico, where he’d been held in the psych ward for weeks and drugged out of his noggin. And not in the good way. Did he need to be medicated? What if they saw a doctor and they told him there was nothing they could do for him. What if--

Suddenly, Murdoc’s phone chimed, alerting him to a new text. He grabbed the phone, fumbling through the pattern lock. When had his hands gotten so shaky, and his vision so blurry? The message was from 2D, commenting on the photo Murdoc had sent.

_ “R u in Noodle’s rm?” _

_ “Needed an amp”  _ he replied. Should he tell 2D what he was feeling? That’d only make him rush back, and Murdoc  _ really _ didn’t want to ruin another one of his trips to see Noodle.

_ “O, did u find 1?” _

_ “Yeah. Played a bit but it’s not the same without you here” _

_ “Ill b home soon M” _

_ “I know D, take your time” _

It was fine, he didn’t need to tell the singer every time he got a little worked up. Murdoc was a grown man for Satan’s sake, he could handle a little bit of anxiety. His phone pinged again

_ “Do u want 2 c a pic of Noods?” _

Murdoc typed, then retyped his message no less than three times. He settled on “ _ OK.” _

The picture was grainy and a little blurry. 2D had an older model phone he refused to give up and it really showed. In the picture the singer was in front of the camera, leaning down to Noodle’s bedside. She was smiling, a little lopsided, but it was still her stunning smile. Murdoc could remember seeing that smile for the first time after she’d finished that wicked solo on top of her FedEx box. Her bruising had faded significantly, though she still looked pale and weak. If he squinted, Murdoc could kid himself into thinking they weren't in a hospital at all.

_ “She looks better” _

_ “She says hi.” _

_ “Tell her I say hi back” _

Was he supposed to feel happy, or sad? Murdoc wished he could be happy that Noodle was getting better, but all he felt was sadness and guilt. She was so sick, and would be for a long time. He knew what happened with Stu was a fluke, most people with traumatic brain injuries had lifelong disabilities. She might never walk or talk again. She might not have the dexterity left in her fingers to play guitar anymore. He couldn’t live with himself if he’d been the cause of that.

“OK, that’s enough,” he grumbled, nudging Katsu aside and getting to his feet. It only took a few minutes to clean up his cans and gather his bass. Staying in there had been nice at first, but the fragile courage he’d had was wearing thin and the coward below was shining through. He couldn’t stay here, surrounded by her for a second longer. When he closed the door--just as Katsu trotted out behind him--he sighed with relief.

Murdoc knew he needed more alcohol if he was going to have to deal with feeling like this. 2D would understand, he hadn’t promised to stay sober, after all. That didn’t sound quite right, but his need for some sort of release from the pounding in his chest was stronger than logic. Dropping the bass off in his room, he made a beeline for the kitchen.

Saddled with a bottle of something stronger than beer, he idled in the hall back to the stairs. He’d only wasted 4 hours. He should have asked 2D when he and Russel were coming back and it’d been too much of a hassle to text the younger now. If he did it’d only worry Stu, not to mention it’d sound like he was being  _ clingy. _ Oh well, he was sure he could find something to occupy himself with for a few more hours.

* * *

 

Russel made sure that after their visit with Noodle they went to the grocery store. According to him, they couldn’t keep ordering takeout every day and the spaghetti had used up the last of the food in the fridge. 2D never saw the harm in ordering takeout, but Russel insisted. He still felt a little guilty about keeping the drummer up at night, so Stu had relented.

By the time they were finished it was late afternoon, way past when he thought they’d be home. The singer hadn’t heard from Murdoc in a while, but he was trying to keep calm. He’d talked to him just a couple of hours ago, had even seen a picture of him. 2D had to learn to trust the bassist if their… relationship was going to work.

He stayed quiet the whole ride, gripping his phone and tapping along nervously to the music. Russel didn’t complain, he always seemed to have a sixth sense about when someone needed some space. Not for the first time, 2D realized that without Russel they’d be a lot worse off.

“If you take the bags in the front,” Russel said, startling the other out of his thoughts, “then I can manage the ones in the back.”

“O-oh, yeah sure Russ,” 2D stuttered. He quickly grabbed the bags, too quickly, spilling some of their contents onto the floor. As fast as he could he packed everything back up and hauled them into the house. It was a bit of a struggle to get the front door open ut he managed, toeing his shoes off before shuffling into the kitchen.

“Murdoc! We’re back!” he called. Distantly he could hear thumping and rattling coming from the second floor. Within seconds he heard the sound of heavy steps down the stairs and felt himself begin to smile. Leaving the groceries for a moment, the singer turned around to greet Murdoc.

“Ello luv,” he teased, not even trying to hide his happiness at seeing the bassist again. He really was acting like a love-sick teenager.

“Alright Stu?” Murdoc asked, sauntering in with a bit more swagger than usual. 2D’s smile fell slightly as he caught a whiff of alcohol off the other. But he didn’t want to upset Murdoc; there was probably a reason he felt the need to get drunk. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed.

“I will be, in a minute,” he joked back, gathering the smaller up in his arms for a hug. Murdoc went willingly. “Ah that’s much better.”

“Mmh, don’t tell me you missed me after such a short time,” Murdoc laughed, wrapping his own arms around the singer. 2D could tell the bassist had missed him just as much as he had. Letting himself forget that Murdoc was drunk for just a moment, the singer leaned in for a kiss, humming happily as Murdoc kissed back.

Their little bubble was popped by the front door opening again; 2D had forgotten about Russel. With a sigh he let Murdoc go, turning back to the groceries and beginning to unbag them. Murdoc was already rifling through the fridge, probably looking for beer when Russel came in with the rest of the bags.

“Hey Muds,” he greeted. Murdoc grunted a hello and took a seat at the table, beer in hand.

“H-hey Russ, I can put the groceries away, if you want,” the singer offered. Really, he just wanted more time to talk to Murdoc alone.

“Well, I’m not gonna argue with that. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” 2D waved as the drummer left, while Murdoc gave a lazy nod. It didn’t take too long for him to get everything put away in it’s proper place, or at least close to it. He really couldn’t remember exactly where they usually kept the cans of soup, so he stacked them up beside the bowls. It was close enough.

“So what did you do while we were gone, Muds?” the singer asked in his most casual voice. Murdoc was drunk enough not to notice anything suspicious.

“Not much. Played bass, sat around, summoned a few demons, the usual.”

2D hoped he was joking about the last part. “And uh, had a couple drinks?”

Murdoc’s eyes flashed dangerously, though he quickly looked away. “Yes, I did. That a problem?”

“N-no! I um, I just’ wanted to ask if there was somethin’ wrong.” 2D watched Murdoc study the table with interest.

“No, nothin’s the matter. Can’t a man enjoy a drink?” The singer was getting a little impatient. Why wouldn’t Murdoc just tell him what the problem was already?

“Just a drink?” he asked, his voice clipped. Murdoc’s head snapped up with a  scowl.

“Yes, Stuart. A drink,” the bassist answered angrily.

“Why?”

Murdoc laughed darkly. “Since when do I need a reason to drink, D?”

2D sighed and sat next to him. “Murdoc…”

“Stop babying me!” Murdoc snarled suddenly, standing up fast enough to knock the chair back. “Satan’s sake 2D!”

“Don’t shout at me!” Stu yelled, getting up as well. Both men had their fists clenched at their sides and frowns on their faces. For a brief moment, a memory flashed in front of the singer's vision. The sound of a chair hitting the ground.  Murdoc, standing over him with an open palm, his own cheek stinging. Murdoc, stumbling out of the room as 2D scrabbled to his feet, a dull throbbing in his face and side. Pink, so much pink. Unconsciously he took a step back, raising his hands to his face in a flinch.  The Satanist was frozen, his fists still clenched but the anger slowly draining from his face.

“2D what--” Murdoc took a few steps forward and immediately the singer’s mind told him to run run  _ get away! _

“No!” he cried, pressing further back into the wall. This was just like back on Plastic Beach, it was happening again, he couldn’t handle it again--

“U-uh, shit!” Murdoc cursed, backing up. Stuart kept an eye on the other’s hands the entire time they raised up placatingly. “2D it’s ok!”

Neither man moved for a good two minutes before 2D collapsed against the wall, tearing streaming down his cheeks. Big, ugly sobs tore their way out of the singer's small frame. Through blurry eyes he watched Murdoc kneel down a few feet in front of him warily.

“Oh God D,” Murdoc whispered, so distraught that he momentarily forgot his own religion. “I’m so sorry.”

For once, the singer put his own feelings first and didn’t rush to comfort Murdoc. He couldn’t, he was frozen in his defensive curl. Even as his breathing evened out, and his sobs turned to silent crying he still couldn’t get up and go to the other man. He wasn’t even sure if he even wanted to. He’d never had a reaction like that around the bassist, and he'd never had a flashback like that either. So why was it happening now that they were finally getting somewhere with each other?

“D-d’you want me to go?” Murdoc asked quietly. He shook his head no, because he wasn’t sure. So they stayed frozen in their spots. It was a wonder Russel didn’t come downstairs to investigate the silence. Eventually, 2D gathered enough strength to lower his hands, wrapping them around his knees instead.

“I-I jus’ w-wanted t-t-t’know why you w-were drinkin,” he said, quiet as a whisper. Murdoc held his head in his hands, shaking.

“I was thinkin’ a little--a little too much and I n-needed  t’relax. I s-swear Stu, that’s all,” he answered. He looked and sounded like he was telling the truth, but still, the singer didn’t feel like he could calm down fully.

“Oh,” Stu said. “M’sorry for makin’ a b-big fuss--”

“No! Uh, no, I shoulda told you t-the truth when you asked,” Murdoc interrupted. “I’m sorry for scarin’ you.”

Stu shrugged. “It was the chair fallin’... I think.”

“Still my fault,” Murdoc said. “If I hadn’t done all that stuff on Plastic--”

2D interrupted with a panicked sound in the back of his throat. “I-I don’t wanna think about that righ’ now.”  He watched Murdoc weigh his options before deflating even more. 

“OK, whatever you want D. I’m, uh, sorry, though. Maybe I should go?”

The older man got to his feet. 2D could still feel the edges of panic in his mind, raw and stinging. But he could also see that Murdoc was really, truly sorry. With a shaky voice, he spoke up.

“Don’t leave.” The singer got to his feet as well, still keeping a safe distance from the other. “I don’t want us to fight.”

“Me either Stu,” Murdoc agreed. They stared awkwardly at each other for a while, unsure of what to do. Eventually, Murdoc picked up the chair he’d toppled and sat down. It was almost like that last fifteen minutes hadn’t happened. Slowly, 2D sat down as well, inching his chair within arms reach of Murdoc.

“We’ll work on it, yeah?” he asked placing a hand on Murdoc’s knee. Murdoc was back to studying the table, but he covered the larger hand with his and squeezed. They weren’t quite there yet, but they were getting close. And Stu was willing to try.


	22. Expectations

**1 Week Later - The First Session - Murdoc**

“So uh, yeah. Guess that’s about it.”

The therapist in front of him was still writing. She’d been diligently taking notes through his entire abridged personal history, jotting down each and every high and low point. So far therapy was nothing like he thought it would be.

“OK… so you said you’ve had mental health treatment before?” she asked after a moment. Murdoc nodded.

“The other times were all in prison though, if that makes any difference, luv,” he answered. She looked up at him and smiled. He resisted the urge to look away.

“I assure you, Murdoc, that you’ll find my methods to be significantly different from those in most correctional facilities,” she told him. He tried not to look too relieved. “I’d like to begin by asking you what you want to get out of therapy.”

He paused. What did she want him to say? “I assume you heard all that from 2D already.”

“But I’d like to hear what  _you_  want Murdoc, not what Stuart wants,” she shot back with a grin. Murdoc laughed dryly. Where had 2D found this one, then?

“What I want is a bottle of--” His therapist shot him a withering look, and he sobered up. “Fine. I uh, I jus’ want to be… Less of a prick?”

He watched her write down “less of a prick” with a sort of cognitive dissonance. “Anything else?”

“I’ve got--” his voice was shaky and quick like if he didn’t hurry and spit the words out he’d never do it. “I’ve got stuff, in my head. I-I’d like to get a handle on that.”

“What kind of stuff, Murdoc?” she asked, still writing. Fucking hell this therapy thing was going to be harder than he thought, wasn’t it?

“Sometimes I do things, and I don’t really know why. O-or I’ll be feelin’ a certain way for no reason.”

“And you’d like to understand that?” she finished for him. Murdoc nodded again, not making eye contact. His nails found purchase in the soft material of the armchair while his knees bounced. The room felt warm and his skin felt too tight. “Alright. Those are both great goals, and they’ll help me tailor your treatment appropriately.”

He grunted in response. The room was quiet again before she put down her pen and faced him directly. “I want you to know, Murdoc, that it’s very brave of you to seek therapy for your problems.”

He scoffed. “Only took a few decades.”

“What matters is you’re here now, and we can begin to work on things together.” She handed him a booklet from her desk. “I want you to take this, and read it over before our next meeting.”

The booklet was thin, with a cover full of smiling people. The title read, “PTSD: Signs and Treatment.” Murdoc swallowed hard.

“I also want to go over a few grounding techniques with you today, before our session ends. Does that sound alright?” He was still staring down at the booklet, hands trembling slightly. With great difficulty, he nodded and sat up straighter. He could this, he had to.

Thirty minutes and a great deal of deep breathing later, Murdoc was walking out of the office. He paid the lady at the desk and set up another appointment for a week later at his therapist's suggestion. Every movement he made felt far away and floaty. Kind of like being drunk without the warm sense of security.

His daze was broken when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Suddenly he realized he was outside the doctor's office building, smoking a cigarette he had no memory of lighting. Checking the text, he was unsurprised to see it was 2D.

_im in the car outside_

_text me when ur done_

_I got coffee_

Murdoc knew 2D was nervous about the first session. He’d already seen their therapist last week, but this was the first time Murdoc had gone. After a few sessions alone, they’d agreed to have one together, the cycle repeating indefinitely. Or until they didn’t need to see the therapist anymore, though Murdoc wasn’t hopeful that’d be any time soon.

Honestly, the bassist had wanted to drive himself to the appointment. It’d give him time to himself to process the session figure out how he felt about everything they talked about. But Stuart had insisted on driving Murdoc there and picking him up like a chauffeur. He was probably afraid Murdoc would flake out and just not show up.

_I’m done._

He sent the text to 2D and took a seat on the curb. Lighting another fag and taking a deep, calming drag, Murdoc tried to center himself. He hadn’t had to go over all (or most, at least) of the nitty-gritty details of his life in a long time, maybe ever. It set him on edge, knowing the things he told an almost complete stranger, willingly.

By the time he finished his smoke, 2D was pulling into the parking lot. It didn’t take very long and Murdoc had the sneaking suspicion that the singer hadn’t even gone all the way home. He didn’t feel like making a scene though. To be honest, he was mostly just tired. When Stu stopped in front of him he quickly got in, sinking down in the seat with a sigh.

“Alright?” Stu asked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Your coffee’s in front.”

Murdoc grabbed his drink with a thankful nod. “Thanks.”

The car was quiet for a moment before 2D spoke again. “So, how did it go?”

“Fine.” Murdoc really,  _really_  didn’t feel up to talking about his session now. Not even the coffee could hold off the exhaustion that was slowly settling over him.

Again, there was a pause. 2D’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel in nervous patterns. Murdoc tried to ignore it.

“Are you sure?” Satan, the singer wasn’t going to give up, was he? Murdoc sighed, realizing he wasn’t being fair to the younger man. 2D was a worrier, it was one of the things that made him so charming.

“It was fine, D. I’m just… tired now,” he answered. Stu visibly relaxed and shot Murdoc an understanding smile. It didn’t make Murdoc feel sick, so he took that as a sign the therapy was working.

“I get it, Muds. Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when we get home?” The relief he felt was definitely a little embarrassing, but he was too worn out to care. Instead and turned on his side towards the window and shut his eyes. In the background, he could hear the soft sounds of the radio show 2D had on, and the rumbling of the tired against the tarmac. It wasn’t ideal for sleeping, but for once exhaustion was working in his favour, and he quickly nodded off against the stained seat.

* * *

 

2D drove them home with no problem. He’d worked as a driving instructor after all. At the very least his track record was better than Murdoc’s, and he was glad the bassist hadn’t insisted on driving them.

His eyes briefly glanced over to his sleeping partner. Murdoc had looked so drained when he first got in the car that Stu had been worried. But his therapist had asked him to work on avoiding quizzing the bassist on his every move. He knew that it wasn’t helpful and that half the time Murdoc didn’t know why he did what he did, but he was just so scared the older man would do something stupid, or get hurt, or--

He clenched his fingers around the steering wheel. That was another thing he needed to get a handle on. Because of his less than stellar past experiences with Murdoc, he tended to disasterize everything he was involved in. It was hard to stop himself, but if he was going to date the bassist, he had to try.

They pulled into the driveway of Wobble Street around 10 minutes later. 2D was feeling a lot calmer, the simple task of driving along familiar roads helped to wind down his brain. Murdoc was still sleeping, hunched up and drooling a little. Honestly, if it wasn’t freezing outside, he would have left Murdoc to sleep. But he didn’t want his boyfriend to freeze, so he carefully reached over and brushed his fingers through the other’s hair.

“We’re here, love,” he murmured, running the tips of his fingers down the angle of Murdoc’s cheek and jaw. The bassist scrunched his nose in irritation but still leaned into the touch. “Come’on, let’s get inside before my fuckin’ knob freezes off.”

Murdoc chuckled a little at that. “Don’t be crass.”

“Mmm I’ll show you crass later if you’re lucky,” 2D teased, getting out of the car himself and unlocking the front door. Murdoc was close behind.

“Hurry up, Stu. I need a drink,” the bassist griped. When they got inside he headed straight for the kitchen and the liquor cabinet. Stu wanted to be mad, but he knew Murdoc was struggling to cope the only way he knew how. Not that the singer could judge him, he’d finally been confronted with the reality of his pain-pill addiction when he ran out last week. With everything going on he’d allowed all his prescriptions to lapse. Luckily Murdoc was still able to write prescriptions with his degree and get the singer some before he went into withdrawal.

“Don’t spoil your dinner, Muds. Russel said he was going to make that mac and cheese recipe he found the other day.”

Murdoc ignored him, instead pulling out a bottle of dark liquor and a cup. To Stu’s surprise, he poured himself a glass and set the bottle back on the shelf. He raised his glass to 2D and took a sip, eyes falling shut.

“Ahh, that’s the stuff. Good year, this is.” He swirled it around in the glass, focusing on the light glinting off the alcohol. “Did you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

It was hard not to smile at his obviousness. “No, I don’t have any plans.” 2D watched as Murdoc slowly looked up to meet his eyes, a nearly invisible smile on his lips.

“D’you want to uh, watch TV, or somthin’?”

* * *

 

**The Second Session - Murdoc**

“... I don’t know why I did it.”

His therapist--he knew her name, but he felt weird using it--waited for him to continue. “I didn’t buy the place with the intention of everythin’ going so wrong.”

“Then why did you buy Plastic Beach, Murdoc?”

The Satanist thought back through the haze of alcohol and mental instability. “Well, it was the furthest place on Earth from anywhere else. Figured I could get some peace and quiet, after the uh, incident with Noodle.”

She jotted a few things down, going over the thing’s he’d told her before. “But you made yourself a companion, and you brought Stuart there.”

“The Cyborg doesn’t count. It couldn’t even talk, really. And I don’t rightly know how 2D got there,” he admitted. “Maybe it was me who kidnapped him, maybe it wasn’t. If I did, I don’t know how or why.”

“How long did you spend alone on the island?” Murdoc had a feeling she was leading him somewhere.

“6 months,” he answered quietly. They’d been 6 of the worst month of his life. At first, he’d been fine on his own, hosting his radio show, sprucing up the island. But slowly, surely, the guilt over El Manyana had eaten away at his mind until there was nearly nothing left.

“That’s a very long time to be alone, Murdoc. It must have been hard.”

He was getting worked up. There was tension in his shoulder and a sort of tingling in his fingers that meant he was holding on to the arms of the chair too tightly. Small things he wouldn’t have noticed before his therapist started pointing them out. Knowing the signs made it easier for him to head off his panic and calm down.

“It was,” he said after a deep breath. “It was jus’ me and my thoughts. I think I went a little mad, to be honest.”

“You had been through a traumatic experience and were experiencing the symptoms of PTSD, Murdoc. Those things were out of your control.” Except they weren’t. He’d caused the whole El Manyana thing without a doubt. His signature was on all the preplanning paperwork for the shoot.

“It was me who put her on that blasted flying island. It was me who put her in danger in the first place.”

“Have you ever asked Noodle how she feels about it?” Murdoc thought back. There hadn’t really been any time after the raid on Plastic Beach, and then they’d split up again. When they all got together at Wobble Street he’d started isolating himself in his room and avoided talking to anyone.

“No. Probably never really apologized either.” She nodded and waited again. Murdoc knew she wanted him to say more.

“You could go visit her. 2D said that he and Russel go quite often.” She already knew he hadn’t been going to visit Noodle, and what had happened the last time he’d tried.

“You know why I can’t.”

Their session was nearly over, and unease was starting to set in. Every week at the end she’d give him something to work on, and report back with the next week. The first time, it had been breathing, the second had been letting 2D know how he was feeling. He had an idea of what this week's might be.

“Why don’t you try writing her a note, and having one of the other’s delivering it to her. I know Stuart said she’s recovered enough to be interacting with her cellphone again,” she suggested. Instantly he paled and began to sweat.

“I-I don’t know what I’d say…” he stuttered. His therapist nodded as if she’d expected his response.

“You don’t have to start off with the big stuff. Why not tell her about your day, or what you want to do when she comes home?”

It sounded impossibly terrifying. But he’d try. Maybe Stu could help him write it up, the idiot was always good with writing sappy shite.

“Fine. I’ll g-give it a go. No promises though,” he added as an afterthought. She smiled knowingly.

“Trying is all I ask Murdoc. It looks like our time is up, however. I’ll see you next week then.”

He left the session feeling strange. In some ways, he was hopeful that he might be able to repair his relationship with Noodle and begin to process of getting better--whatever that meant. But in other ways, he was nearly paralyzed with the fear that that was impossible. Murdoc could feel himself begin to shake as he left the office. Not even the cool air could snap him out of it.

_Come get me_

All he could think about was getting somewhere safe where he could break down in private. With shaky hands he lit a smoke and practically inhaled it. In just a few moments it was down to the filter and he pulled it from his lips, watching the cherry die. In a split second action, he ground the ember against his other wrist. The burning centred him.

“Murdoc!” The twangy voice of his singer startled him out of his daze. Murdoc immediately dropped the butt and tamped it out. 2D was smiling at him from the driver's side and Murdoc was infinitely grateful that the singer hadn’t seen what he’d just done. Pulling his sleeve over burn he stalked over to the passenger side and got in.

“You’re shakin’ Muds,” the other said. 2D put the car in park and pulled the handbrake, twisting to face the bassist. Murdoc clenched his teeth to prevent himself from snapping at the singer to just drive. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

If he started talking about it he knew he’d start crying. And he really didn’t feel like crying in a parking lot in the middle of London. “Can we jus'... go home?”

2D shrugged. Murdoc focused on the way the seat felt against his back and how the heated air pumping from the dash was drying out his skin. It was hard to pull himself into the moment, to keep centred in the here and now instead of wallowing in the past. Memories of all the shitty things he had to make up for were piling up against his internal dam, nearly breaking through. Just as he felt himself slipping under the surface, 2D reached out and put his hand on Murdoc’s knee.

“We’ll be home soon,” he said with a reassuring smile. Murdoc covered the hand with his own and squeezed. He was here, he was with 2D, he was trying.

He was trying.

* * *

**The Third Session - Murdoc**

“--and I don’t bloody know what he expects! I told him! I told him to give me time and he--”

Murdoc was ranting as he paced back and forth in front of his therapist. He was completely incensed, beyond reason with anger and frustration. He did everything he was supposed to! The letter to Noodle took him hours to write--and tens of different version to get right--and that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that he had to give it to 2D to give to Noodle, then wait for a reply. The entire process had been nearly too much for the bassist, but he’d done it.

And that sodding idiot Stuart had the  _nerve_  to tell him he wasn’t trying hard enough. That he wasn’t making progress.

“I-I though’ I was doin’ everythin’ he wanted me to!” he shouted, grabbing his hair and tugging as he paced. His therapist had been quiet from the moment he stepped into the office, letting him scream and vent as much as he needed to. She knew he’d run out of steam eventually, Murdoc’s anger was shallow but fierce when I came to his partner.

“Murdoc, could you try some of those breathing exercises we’ve been practising?” she asked gently. Until she pointed it out he hadn’t realized that he was wheezing, his chest tight with stress. Focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, Murdoc took a deep breath in through his mouth, then exhaled.

“Thank you. Now, could you tell me what exactly, 2D said that made you feel like his?”

Murdoc was still angry, his fists clenched tight enough that his nails were biting into his palm. He took a few more seconds, then sat in the chair opposite. “He’s been at me all week. ‘Oh Murdoc, yer drinkin’ too much!’, and ‘oi Muds, yew neva’ tell me how yer doin’!’,” he said, doing an impression of 2D.

“But I have been tellin’ him how I’m feelin’!” he continued. By now he was curled forward on the edge of his chair, fingers knitted behind his neck.

“Did you tell him that you felt that way?” she asked. Somehow it always felt like she was one step ahead of him, leading him to his own conclusions.

“I tried, at first. I don’t think he believed me when I said I was ‘fine’. But I really was!” He really had been doing alright a few times this week. But every time he answered that way, 2D would frown a little, like he thought the bassist was lying.

“And I’ll admit,” he said slowly, “I have been drinkin’ about the same as I always have. But I wasn’t passed out in the livin’ room or nothin’. But there he was every time I took a drink, frownin’ and grumblin’.”

“Thank you for being honest about your alcohol consumption, Murdoc,” his therapist said as he caught his breath again. Every time he got going the anger and anxiety would ramp up again, strangling him. “Can you explain how 2D’s actions made you feel?”

A brief pause. “He made me feel… I felt ignored. A-and like he was treatin’ me like I’m some fragile fuckin--gah!”

He jumped up to his feet again, restarting his journey from wall to wall. “I don’t soddin’ need his  _pity_. Pity never got me anywhere, didn’t put food on the table or stop all those peop--” There were tears running down his face now, without his permission. He wiped them angrily. This wasn’t the first time he’d cried during a session, but it never got less humiliating.

“I  _am_  t-tryin’,  _I am,_ ” he said, his voice choked. “He makes me f-feel like I’m n-not doin’  _well enough._  Like I’m never enough.”

“Can you focus on that?” she cut in. “Focus on where that feeling is coming from?”

He tried, he really did. But there wasn’t just one specific cause. There had never been a point in his life where he didn’t feel inadequate, didn’t feel like he wasn’t meeting expectations. Whose expectations? Murdoc had no idea.  He overcompensated with a loud and abrasive personality to cover up the insecurities underneath. It was easy to see why, after years of struggling with these feelings, it’s been so easy for 2D’s concern to drive him to the breaking point.

And he knew 2D cared about him, he really did. He didn't think the poor sod had it in him to lie about something like that. But he was so scared that if he didn't meet 2D's expectations 100% of the time, the singer would realize what a waste of time being with someone like Murdoc was. Fuck, he realized, he'd done it again.

“I-I--” he stuttered, running a hand down his face. “Fuck. I-I have to apologize to Stu.”

“For what?”

Murdoc was already grabbing his coat and throwing it on. “I was blamin’ him for somethin’ that wasn’t all his fault, as usual.” He had a hand on the door when he turned back to his therapist, still sitting in her chair.

“Uh, same time next week?” he asked. She nodded with a  slight smile and waved him out. Murdoc left the session feeling like he’d had some sort of breakthrough, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was.


	23. Forward

**The First Session - Stuart**

“And what are your goals for therapy?”

So far, this session with his new therapist was going well. It wasn’t much different from sessions he’d had in the past, she’d asked him for some information, he’d told her about his past, and now they were talking about goals. Only 2D hadn’t really thought about _why_ he was going to therapy, aside from encouraging Murdoc to go.

“I uh, I don’t really know,” he admitted, biting a nail. “ I was mostly jus’ comin’ because Murdoc said he would.”

She added a note to her file. “OK. Well, is there anything you’d like to work on?”

Stu thought for a little while, before remembering the incident in the kitchen. “I get scared, sometimes. About Murdoc, but also other things.”

“Hmm, I understand. You feel that in certain situations, you’re more afraid than you should be?”

“Y-yeah! Even when I know I’m safe I jus’...” he trailed off with a shrug. Since the time in the kitchen, he’d been noticing other little reactions that didn’t always make sense. One time Murdoc laughed loudly at something on the TV, and he immediately tensed up, afraid. Another time, Russel had dropped a cup and the smashing glass nearly frightened Stu to tears.

“Alright, is there anything else?” 2D thought back again, but couldn’t really put his finger on a specific thing.

“I don’t think so. I mean, I can’t think of anything.”

She made a few more notes, then closed her book, smiling. “Well, that sounds like a good place to start then!” They talked for a few more minutes about things before time was up. 2D left feeling relatively relaxed and a little bit hopeful.

It wasn’t a very long drive home, and within an hour he was stepping through the front door of Wobble Street. He was greeted by Katsu, who wound his way between his legs, purring loudly.

“‘Ello little buddy,” he cooed, leaning down to scritch behind the cat’s ears. When he straightened up again he saw Murdoc at the foot of the stairs, leaning against the wall. “Hello to you too, Muds.”

“Hey there, Bluebird,” the bassist drawled. He was wearing trackies and a tight-fitting t-shirt, his hair still mussed from sleep. The corner of his lip twitched like he was suppressing a smile. 2D didn’t bother hiding his, beaming at the other as he walked forward to wrap his arms around him.

“Someone’s happy to see me,” the singer teased, letting one of his hand's fiddle with the ends of Murdoc’s hair. The bassist did smile at that, craning his head up to mouth at Stu’s neck and jaw.

“ _Very happy,_ ” he growled before beginning to suck a hickey into the taller’s neck. 2D gasped, then groaned as Murdoc worked, giving himself over completely to the older’s whims.

“M-Murdoc!” Now the bassist had a hand at the front of Stu’s pants, kneading at the burgeoning hardness there. 2D really, _really hoped_  Russel wasn’t home.

“Shall we take this upstairs?” 2D nodded fervently, letting Murdoc turn and pull him up the stairs. He felt a little bit like a teenager again, silly and randy without a care. It was nice, to let loose like that sometimes.

Murdoc’s room was closest. The door was only just closing behind them as Murdoc sank to his knees, expertly unbuttoning Stu’s jeans and nuzzling against his crotch.

“S-shit Muds! G-gimmie a warning next t-time!” he squeaked. Murdoc chuckled lowly, moving to mouth at the singer’s cock through his briefs. 2D made eye contact with him and moaned.

“Woke up and you weren’t here,” Murdoc murmured, working Stu’s jeans and pants down and over his feet. “Wanted to feel you so bad, I couldn’t help myself.”

The singer hissed as Murdoc took him into his mouth, devilish tongue squirming around the tip. To anchor himself he threaded his fingers through Murdoc’s dark hair, knowing the bassist wouldn’t mind. As expected, the slight tugging made Murdoc whine, his eyes slipping shut in bliss.

Between the hot suction and the lewd noises Murdoc was making, 2D was a groaning, shaking mess in no time. He started thrusting his hips a little, and to his delight Murdoc immediately gave up control, letting the singer set the pace.

“So good--oh God M-Mudoc You're making me cu--!” White-hot pleasure burst from his core, forcing a shout from his lips. Murdoc took it all with a moan, the vibrations making everyone so much sweeter. By the time he stopped shaking and had the brainpower to look down, Murdoc was gasping through his own orgasm, hand in his pants and face pressed into Stu’s thigh.

“Holy hell,” he laughed, running his hands through Murdoc’s hair fondly. The bassist echoed the laugh with his own, slightly out of breath but no less pleased. They rested there against the door for a while as they both caught their breath, the space between them warm and close.

* * *

  **The Second Session - Stuart**

He was late for his second session. The night before he’d been having trouble sleeping, so he’d taken some of his sleeping pills and then slept through the alarm and Murdoc’s inquiries. Then he’d been groggy and disoriented through the whole morning, not to mention his head had been hurting more than usual. Since he’d run out of headache pills earlier in the week, and finally realized how much of a dependence he had on them, he’d been trying to take less but it was so hard.

By the time he got into the therapist’s office, he was 15 minutes late and nearly in tears from the stress. He walked in and immediately sat down with his knees drawn up and fingers tapping away on his knees. She didn’t seem surprised by his state and waited for him to say something.

“So I--” he started, before stopping again to think. What was he going to say? “I-I don’t--”

“Would you like a glass of water?” she asked. When he nodded she got up and went to the water cooler, handing him a paper cup filled with cool water. He drank, letting the chilly liquid calm him down. When he was done his breathing was more regular, and his shakes had stopped.

“Thanks,” he said, crushing the cup in his hands. “It’s been a rough mornin’.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Well,” he began ripping the paper cup into little bits, “I couldn’t sleep las’ night so I took some pills, and then I slep’ through my alarm. And my head was killin’ me, but I don’t wanna take my headache pills because I know I’ve been takin’ too many.” It all came out in a rush, like each word crawling over the next.

“You haven’t been taking your migraine medication at all?”

“Not really, unless it got so bad I couldn’t do nothing,” he answered, shrugging. Her eyebrows pinched together in concern. He’d had two headaches this week that had been so bad he couldn’t get up or move, and only then did he let Murdoc or Russel feed him his medication.

“Stuart, it’s dangerous to quite any medication so suddenly, especially if you’ve become addicted.” He looked down at his shoes, still shredding the cup.

“I-I didn’t think it was gonna be this bad,” he admitted quietly. Each time he’d gone without his pills he’d been knocked on his arse by chills, nausea, and pain until Murdoc or Russel stepped in. “I didn’t notice I-I was takin’ so many.”

“It would be much safer to taper down to an appropriate dose,” she suggested. He knew that too, but...

“I dunno if I can do that myself… and I don’t really wanna give all my pills to Muds.” The memory of Murdoc’s most recent overdose was still too fresh.

“What about Russel? I’m sure he’d be happy to help you.”

“I don’t really wanna bug him though..” he trailed off. 2D knew that if he asked Russel wouldn’t mind, but he was still worried about annoying him. Russel had so much going on with his own life, was it really fair to ask him to help even more?

“Why don’t you ask him, and then if he says no we’ll figure out what to do from there?” He nodded in hesitant agreement, mostly because he didn't see any other way. “How was your week, otherwise?”

2D thought back. “Alrigh’ I guess. We visited Noodle again, though Murdoc stayed home. He, uh, he seemed pretty worked up after his first visit here but he was mostly alrigh’.”

“That’s good to hear. How is Noodle doing, and how are you doing since she’s been in the hospital?”

They talked a little back and forth, Stu sharing a couple of things, his therapist making suggestions here or there for ways he could do things differently. They talked a lot about Murdoc, and how their relationship was going. When the session came to an end he was feeling pretty relaxed, if not a little worn out from his headache, and he was glad when she finally closed her notebook and walked him out.

“Stu I’d like you to try keeping a journal. You can write whatever you like in it, but I think it may be helpful for you to be able to look back on your feelings from time to time.” He shrugged and agreed. He already had a music journal, maybe he could just use that.

Outside he sat on the curb and pulled out his phone. Since he hadn’t been feeling so good Murdoc had offered to drive him, which was a miracle in itself. The bassist had been on his best behaviour, following the speed-signs and stopping at every stop sign. For Murdoc it was nearly an unheard of amount of courtesy, and 2D made a mental note to thanks him. Then he made a physical note in his phone, knowing that if left to its own devices his brain would almost certainly throw out that bit of information.

He sent a quick text to the bassist to let him know he was done, then lit a fag. A slightly more intense twinge behind his eyes made him wince. He didn’t want to have to ask Russel to manage his medication on top of everything the drummer was already doing. Russ had enough on his plate with Noodle and Murdoc to worry about without Stu adding himself to the pile.

But he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from taking too many pills when the pain got bad. And from there it was a slippery slope to taking them when it was a little bad, then to taking them when he was feelin’ upset. He knew that if left to himself he’d go right back to popping his medication at any chance he got. So he’d have to ask the drummer for help.

Murdoc pulled up to the front of the building and honked the horn twice, jolting Stu out of his thoughts and making his head throb. He’d been to caught up in thought to notice the little headache he’d had was turning into a much larger problem. Crushing his smoke under his shoe, he ambled around to the passenger side, getting in. Murdoc shot him a questioning look at the way he curled forward in his seat.

“You ok there Stu?” he asked, keeping the car in park. 2D shook his head no and blindly reached to the dashboard, searching for the pills he knew Murdoc kept there. The bassist caught on quickly, finding the bottle and tossing a few into his hand and holding it out. The feeling of pills sliding down his throat dry was a familiar one.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, curling forward even more. The headache he’d had in the office was slowly turning into another migraine. It would take a while for the pills to kick in, and those weren’t going to address his nausea. The pills he usually took for that were back at home, but the idea of the car moving was enough to set his stomach rolling.

“Is it a bad one?” Stu grunted a yes. It was too bright out, and he pressed his palms into his eyes until all the light was blocked out. After a few seconds, he felt the car shut off, and heard Murdoc unlock his seat belt, followed by the feeling of cold hands against his scalp. It felt so good.

“Here, take my jacket and put it over your head,” Murdoc said, handing the leather over. “At least until those pills kick in." It wasn’t completely dark under the coat, but it was better than nothing. Murdoc kept his hands stroking through 2D’s hair and gently massaging the tight muscles in his neck. The jacket smelled like Murdoc, and Stu tried to focus on that as he let the pills dow their job.

Within an hour the medication kicked in and 2D felt safe buckling himself in for the ride home. Murdoc gave him a gentle half-smile and made sure to take the least bumpy paths. Stu watched the world outside his window go by in a medicated haze, feeling like he hadn’t really made any progress. Maybe after he asked Russel for help he’d feel better? It was worth a try.

* * *

  **The Third Session - Stuart**

“You’ve mentioned Plastic Beach a few times since we first met. Could you tell me a little more about it?” Fuck. She knew, she had to. He’d tried to be sneaky about avoiding the topic, mentioning it here and there in passing, but she’d still picked up on his reluctance.

“I-I don’t know what you want me t’say,” he answered, looking away. He’d never been very good at lying. He already felt the word vomit creeping up his throat. “I-it was pretty b-bad, but i-it’s over. I’m o-over it.”

“What made it so bad?” his therapist asked, making a few notes. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He really didn’t want to talk about Plastic beach now; he wasn’t ready. He hadn’t prepared, he--

“M-Murdoc,” he stuttered out without meaning to. But once he’d started, it was difficult to stop. “H-he was h-horrible t’me, the w-whole time. H-he _hurt me_. A lot.”

Stu was breathing heavy now, the familiar prick of tears stinging his eyes. “A-and I know he w-wasn’t right then. H-he was sick. B-but…”

She was watching him now, he knew. It was pretty obvious she had some idea of how bad Plastic Beach had been, either from Murdoc or through the internet. “But I--I still t-think about it. I-I have dreams.”

“Does Murdoc still hurt you now?” she asked, voice a tiny bit harder than normal. He could see the relief on her face when he answered.

“N-no. He hasn’t since we came back, except for in one of our videos. B-but that was fake…” the hit with the shoe had still hurt a little, though not as much as it could have for sure.

“Have you talked to Murdoc about it?”

2D didn’t want to answer, because he knew that she’d tell him he should talk about it. Everyone was always pushing him to talk about it, to get over it, but he _wasn’t ready--_

“It’s OK, if you aren’t ready to yet,” she said instead. He snapped his head up to look at her and only then noticed he was crying.

“I-I,” Stu croaked. His throat wasn’t working, he wanted to talk about it so bad but he couldn’t yet. “It s-still hurts. I can’t y-yet.”

She nodded and handed him a box of tissues. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to, Stuart. You’re the one who sets the limits.” It felt good to be told he didn’t have to be ok, that he didn’t have to be open and willing to talk about what were frankly the worst months of his life. “You are an adult, and if you trust Murdoc now to not do what he did then, that’s your choice.”

“T-thanks.” He blew his nose and sniffed a little, smiling just a bit. “I know I-I need to talk about it eventually, b-but… Not now.”

“Do you have anything else you want to talk about today?”

 

Later that night, long after he’d gotten home and crawled into his bed, Murdoc tiptoed through his door. Normally they spent most of the day together, but after the session he’d had, well he needed some time alone. It honestly surprised him that the bassist hadn’t come in before, knowing how Murdoc didn’t always respect personal space very well.

“You awake, D?” the bassist whispered into the dark space. 2D thought about not answering and continuing to wallow.

“...Yeah.”

He could hear Murdoc’s quiet breathing and the sound of bare feet against carpet. “Can I come in?”

The promise of warmth and comfort was enough to draw him out of the covers. “..Yeah.”

Murdoc closed the door and slid under the covers, right behind Stu. How could that warmth be both everything he needed and everything he didn’t want at the same time?

“D’you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

If Murdoc was surprised by his refusal, he didn’t show it. Instead, he gently slid an arm around the singer’s waist and pulled him close. “OK, Bluebird. OK. Why don’t I tell you what Russel and I got up to today instead?”

“OK,” Stu sighed, happy to listen to the other prattle on about whatever if it meant they could stay the way they were. He felt comfortable, and secure, and maybe a little bit hopeful. But he was also kind of sad, and a little bit angry. Maybe that was part of it, part of getting better.


	24. Happy

At first, when he woke up, he felt pretty good. There was a warm body beside him and he didn’t feel hungover. Murdoc took a few seconds to open his eyes, savouring those feelings before having to start the day. When he did open them, he came face to face with a sleeping Stu, drooling all over his pillows and looking as beautiful as the day they’d met.

How did he get so lucky? Murdoc hadn’t done anything in his life to deserve something like this, something so precious and good. But he wasn’t supposed to think like that anymore. He was a person capable of giving and receiving love. He deserved to be happy. As he watched the younger man sleep he repeated that mantra in his mind, trying to convince himself it was true.

It didn’t take long for Stu to wake up as well. Murdoc watched as it happened, first a small crinkling of the other’s brow, then a huge yawn. The singer nuzzled his face into the soaked pillow, grumbling quietly before cracking one eye open to look at the bassist.

“Wha’ time is it?” he groaned, curling forward to rest his head on Murdoc shoulder. Immediately the Satanist made room for him, draping an arm around Stu’s waist and pulling him closer. His hair smelled like butterscotch.

“No idea, I jus’ woke up,” Murdoc answered. They lay quietly for some time, enjoying the sleepy morning atmosphere. Eventually, though, the need to piss was stronger than the need for human contact and Murdoc grunted, shimmying away from the singer and out of bed.

“Nooo… Come back…” 2D whined, reaching out and grabbing at the air. Murdoc chuckled lightly and leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead. That seemed to placate the singer and he lay back down, huddled under the covers.

“I’ll be back in a minute, love. I’m an old man, when I’ve gotta piss I’ve gotta piss,” Murdoc chuckled. He left the dark room behind and walked to the bathroom. As he finished up there, he looked in the mirror, mentally preparing himself for what he’d see. He was shocked when his eyes met the face of a tired, but happy man. The bags under his eyes were fading, the frown lines on his forehead looked smoother. Most notably though, was the way his eyes seemed to sparkle just a little, like he had life inside him for the first time in years. Murdoc reached up to the mirror, then to his own face, running fingers over his skin.

When he returned to the bedroom, 2D was sitting up against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. Murdoc climbed back into bed, sidling up beside the singer and peeking at the screen nosily. Stu didn’t seem to mind, only humming and leaning his head against the other’s shoulder.

“Are you ready for today?” he asked casually. A cold spike of anxiety shot thought he bassist’s chest. He attempted to breathe through it before answering.

“No, but I have to do it.” If he gave himself the option of chickening out, he’d take it. So he wouldn’t give himself that option.

“You don’t have to, Muds,” 2D said, flicking from the news app he was browsing to social media.

Murdoc sighed. “Yeah, I do have to. I can’t run from this anymore Stu.”

“It’s gonna be fine, you know. You’ve been textin’ her and it’s been OK right?” He was right, they had been texting back and forth since the first time he sent her a message. That’d been a few weeks ago, and it’s may have been the hardest thing he’d ever done. But she’d responded well, though they hadn’t talked about anything serious so far.

“I know, I know,” he groaned. “I jus’ can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

2D set his phone down on the nightstand and turned on his side to face Murdoc directly. “Well, we’re up early… we could do somethin’ to get your mind off it.”

Immediately, Murdoc felt a warmth in his belly replace the fear. He lived that the singer was as randy as he was. “Oh? And what did you have in mind?” he teased, knowing exactly what Stu was proposing. Murdoc could think of nothing he’d rather do that fool around with the singer while they enjoyed the warm, early-morning calm.

“Yeah,” the singer murmured, letting one of his hands trail along Murdoc’s bare side, stopping just above his briefs. “I always want you so much Murdoc. It drives me crazy.”

“You have me Stu, you have me,” Murdoc moaned as the singer’s other hand roamed over his chest, pinching and rubbing his nipple. The singer must have liked what he heard, because he grinned salaciously, leaning forward to capture the older man's lips in a loving kiss. Murdoc let him do it, using his own hands to tease the other with slight pressure over his crotch.

They kept things slow despite the heat. Cut off moans and grunts passed between them, building up until neither could take it anymore. 2D rolled them over so Murdoc was underneath him, pinned to the mattress by the singer’s hand around his wrist. The bassist arched up into the other, keening. 2D grinned, using his other hand to push down on Murdoc’s chest, pinning him further.

“You want me to take care of you, love?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Murdoc nodded, eyes glued to the spot where their hips were nearly touching. How was he already so far gone? Every time he slept with the singer it was so intense, so new. Murdoc had never had that with anyone else.

“I do, I do D. Please…” Stu chuckled, watching to bassist fall apart under him. He paused a moment, letting the hand on Murdoc’s chest wander up to his throat caressing but not squeezing, testing the waters. The slightest bit of pressure there made Murdoc’s breath hitch.

“God, you’re such a slut.” Murdoc nodded again, bucking his hips to get something, anything.

“Yeah, yeah--!” Stu’s baggy pyjama bottoms let him feel the entire outline of the singer’s cock against his own. Satan, he as already so hard.

“You love being under me, don’t you? Love me filling you up, fucking you right.” 2D’s dirty talk was doing wonders for Murdoc’s state of mind, pushing out any worries and filling that space with pleasure. Even if it was a little over the top. “Tell me what you want me to do to you Muds. I wanna hear you.”

Oh so they were playing that game were they? “I want you to fuck me, Stu.”

“You can do better than that. Come on, tell me~” 2D teased, a gentle roll of his hips making Murdoc writhe. At least the distraction was working, Murdoc couldn’t think about anything but how much he needed the singer.

“Fuck D, I want to you stick your cock in me and ram me into this bed! I want you to make me feel it. I wanna be sore for days--I want--” 2D kissed him then, with enough force to make their teeth clack. He also tightened that hand on the bassist's throat, still not tight enough to choke but just enough to threaten.

“You want me to be rough?” the singer asked, leaving Murdoc’s mouth to bite and suck at his neck. He was biting hard enough to leave welts and Murdoc could only moan weakly at the sensation.

“Yes--!” he groaned, craning his neck to give Sty more access. The singer readily took advantage. Murdoc whined in pleasure pain, knowing that if the other kept going he wouldn’t be able to last long.

“You like this, don’t you Muds?” Murdoc shook nodded frantically, grinding their hips together the best he could. He did, he really really did and the fact that it was  _ his _  singer doling out the pain made it 10x better.

Stu grinned as he pulled back, slithering his body down the bassist’s front. The sight of 2D, mouth-level with his prick, smirking deviously, was nearly enough to make him cum. As it was his cock twitched, much to the delight of the singer. Stu slowly pulled his briefs down his thighs, making sure Murdoc was watching the entire time.

“I’m gonna suck you off now, is that what you want?” He did, but he also wanted the singer inside him, wanted to feel stretched out and owned and  _ needed _ . But he didn’t want to ruin this wonder dominant streak 2D was on, and he trusted that the singer would give him what he needed eventually, so he nodded slightly, spreading his legs open to accommodate him.

“Good boy,” 2D praised, right before taking the tip of Murdoc’s prick into his mouth and sucking. His nails dug into his hips, the sharp stinging only making the pleasure sweeter. The contrast between the soft heat of Stu’s mouth and the hot burn of his nails drive Murdoc wild.

“Fuck!” Murdoc hissed, knees drawing up to frame the singer’s head. He took a risk and knotted his hands in the other’s hair. Stu chuckled a little, and oh those sweet vibrations were too much.

He wasn’t sure how long the singer had been sucking him, but eventually, he pulled off with a pop and a smile. “Pass me the lube,” Stuart ordered. Murdoc took a few seconds for the words to get through but then shot a hand into the bedside drawer. Soon the lube was in 2D’s capable hands. Slicking a couple of fingers and pressing them against Murdoc’s arse Stu looked up.

“You want my fingers?” he asked, tone low and dark.

“Y-yes.”

“Good, you take them so well,” Stu purred as the pushed two inside at once. Murdoc stiffened from the sudden intrusion and the little bit of pain that came with it, but quickly adjusted. The burn was a compliment to the aching throb in his cock that got worse with each passing second.

“M-more! Give me more!” He’d take them all if it meant he could continue feeling this wonderful feeling for a few seconds more. When he felt a third finger pushing in just as the singer curled the others over his prostate, Murdoc was finished.

“Stu!” he moaned, cock shooting cum all over his belly. Murdoc didn’t have his eyes open, so he couldn’t tell if the other was surprised, but to his credit 2D continued to fuck him through his orgasm. It just went on and on until he was a shaking and stuttering mess.

When he managed to open his eyes the singer was still moving his fingers slowly while looking right at Murdoc’s face. Murdoc wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or worried at the hungry look he saw there.

“That was beautiful,” he breathed, fingers moving in gentle circles inside Murdoc. There was enough stimulation that it felt nearly overwhelming, but not enough for it to be truly unpleasant. The singer was smiling softly, now petting the bassist’s hips softly, calming him back down again. “D’you still want to…?”

Murdoc used his grip on the other’s hair to pull him up between his legs. Stu came willingly, letting his fingers slip out and his hands forearms to bracket the bassist’s head. He looked over his face for a moment before kissing him again, softer this time but with no less passion. Murdoc let his legs fall wide open and his hands wander down to 2D’s arse, squeezing a little.

“Someone’s still feelin’ frisky,” he joked as he wiggled out of his PJ pants. Murdoc gave him a weak smile, enjoying the feeling of the other man pressing him into the bed. There was no space in his mind to worry about what they would be doing in a few hours. Right now, there was only 2D, especially when he felt the singer pushing his cock forward and inside Murdoc’s arse.

“Enough of this slow shit D,  _ fuck me, _ ” Murdoc ordered, voice shaking. He wanted to hurt, wanted to feel owned. 2D took the hint and picked up the pace immediately, hips snapping harshly at the end of each thrust. “Oh fuck  _ yes _ .”

Murdoc’s eyes closed in pleasure, his hands wrapping around the other and squeezing tight. Stu ducked down and captured the bassist’s lips in a brutal kiss, teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. Murdoc gave up willingly. Satan, could he really cum again so soon? It felt like it, the burning edges of pleasure coursing through his veins.

“You feel so good,” 2D murmured against his mouth, their hot breath coming in explosive puffs between them. “You need this, don’t you?”

“Need it, want it,  _ please--!” _

He watched 2D’s expression darken with lust as he stopped thrusting and pulled out.

“Turn around”

Murdoc did, eagerly. Arse in the air, hands planted shoulder-width apart, he waited patiently for the singer to get back to buggering him. When a few seconds had passed without any change he looked back over his shoulder at the other.

“W-what’s the holdup?” he asked, wiggling his hips slightly.

Stu’s face was unreadable as he stared down at him. His hands were pulled up against his chest until the singer lowered them to wrap around Murdoc’s hips. Murdoc had always admired Stu’s hands, the way the were so big and crooked looking, the way they would dance across the keyboard. The bassist let himself fall onto his forearms, practically presenting himself to the singer. “Come’on Stu, don’t leave m-me hangin’.”

Suddenly 2D raised a hand and slapped his ass, hard. Murdoc lurched forward with an embarrassing yelp, still looking back at the singer who was raising his hand for another slap. 2D started smiling, watching the way Murdoc writhed and jolted on the sheets.

“You like that?” he asked, soothing the reddened skin with his hand before getting back into position. Murdoc nodded meekly, mostly focusing on keeping himself from falling flat completely. “Good.”

This time there was no slow buildup. The singer began pounding him into the mattress, mercilessly rubbing against his sweet spot. Murdoc could only take it, drawn-out moans and grunts pouring him his lips as he grasped the sheets.

“Oh God, o-oh shit--” he panted, ending with a whine. Behind him he could hear Stu swearing and muttering to himself before giving his arse another brisk slap. Murdoc yelped again, feeling his end approach quickly. “I-I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it, cum on my cock. I-I’m gonna cum in you, I-I’m--!” Faster than anticipated, Murdoc was cumming with a weak gasp as Stu gave one last hard thrust. Through his orgasm he could feel 2D cumming inside, could feel the sharp bite of his nails. It only extended his high.

In the aftermath, once they had cleaned up a little and snuggled up under the covers, Murdoc felt a strong sense of peace wash over him. 2D lay beside him, curled toward him with his hands wrapped around the bassists. Their faces were close enough for their noses to brush with even the tiniest movement.

“Was that good?” the singer asked, playing with Murdoc’s fingers. Murdoc felt his lip twitch with a smile.

“Rocked my world, as usual, Stu-Pot.” 2D grinned cockily.

“Good. We can stay here a little bit before we  _ have _  to get up, if you want.”

Murdoc nodded and closed his eyes, letting himself curl even closer to the other. He let himself be completely in the moment, completely there with his singer, in his room, in his home. The blankets were warm, and anything else that had to happen could happen later because, for that brief time, Murdoc was truly, really happy.

* * *

 

They were at the hospital now. Murdoc had spent the entire drive there focusing on his breathing and the feeling of the weathered seat below him. Luckily, 2D had taken pity on him before they left and given him a couple of Xanax to help him through. He’d taken them all just before he got in the car, and they’d started kicking in as they walked through the hospital doors.

“She’s on a different floor from last time you were here, Muds,” Russel explained as they exited the elevator on the 10th floor. To be honest, Murdoc hadn’t even noticed, too busy worrying about the increasingly fuzzy feeling in his head. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken all those pills at once. “Since she’s doing so much better she doesn’t need to stay in the ICU.”

“You feelin’ OK mate?” 2D asked. Murdoc gave him a jerky nod as he focused on what he wanted to say to Noodle. He hadn’t seen her in weeks. They’d been texting a bit, but only really innocuous things. Even with the situation, she was in, Noodle seemed to understand that he wasn’t ready to talk yet. Not until they could meet face to face.

He’d spent ages drafting his first version of the text he eventually sent. At first, he’d starred at the blank screen for hours, at a complete loss as to what he should say. Should he start off by apologizing, or was that something he should do in person?  _ Could _  he even apologize for everything he’d done? After hours of deliberation, and a few kind words from 2D, he’d started with a small hello, and to his shock, she’d replied almost right away. It’d been like a dream, being able to talk to her again even if it was only a quick good morning or goodnight.

Which brought him to today. 2D and Russel stopped outside her door, both looking at him. “What?”

“We uh, we wanted to know if you wanna see her alone first,” Russel said, shrugging. 2D nodded in agreement.

“Oh,” Murdoc replied dumbly. He looked down and thought for a few moments; did he want the other's there for support, or did he want to face her alone? It might be easier alone, without the pressure of others. “I guess I’d like a few minutes, yeah.”

They moved aside so he could open the door. Murdoc took one last deep breath, then slipped inside. It was surprisingly homey inside, unlike the ICU room. The floor was wood, the bed was as close to a normal bed as it could probably get, and the normal hospital gear was tucked away in corners as to be unobtrusive. Beside the bed were two comfy chairs and a little end table littered with gifts and flowers. The keychain he’d bought was hanging out on the table top.

But he could only spend so much time staring at the room because Noodle was right there, sitting up on her own and eating a tray of hospital food on a pullout table. She had a forkful of what looked like macaroni halfway up to her mouth, frozen. Murdoc realized that maybe she was as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

“H-hey, Noodle,” he stuttered, not taking a single step towards the bed. She seemed to overcome her shock quickly, lowering the fork and beaming at him. Her smile felt like the warmest hug he’d ever had.

“Murdoc!” she rasped, reaching out to him. He could see could still see the cast on her leg and the bandages on her head; he had to be the one to take the first step. So he did. And one step became two, then three, then four as he reached the side of her bed and wrapped her up in the biggest, tightest embrace possible, given her injuries.

“ _ Noodle, _ ” he said again, tears already falling down his cheeks. She laughed a little into his shoulder, hugging him back as best she could. “I’m so s-sorry love.”

“I love you, Dad,” she whispered back, ignoring his apologies and sniffles. A small laugh bubbled its way out of his chest, then another, and another until he was giggling like a child into her shoulder. “Murdoc?”

“Oh f-f-fuck!” he gasped between laughter, pulling back from her enough to look at her face. The bruising was gone, and she looked healthy. Healthy and alive. Had he ever been this happy before? “That idiot gave me too many p-pills!”

“2D?” she asked, rolling her eyes when he nodded.

“H-he gave me some t’calm down, but you know what he’s like with t-those bloody things.”

He watched her sigh in frustration before pulling him back in for another hug. She was so strong, not as strong as usual but he was thankful for it anyway. Going from seeing her immobile in a bed to alive and laughing and teasing him was a miracle he could barely believe.

“I’m glad nothing’s changed, then,” Noodle said with a smile in her voice. Murdoc took a few more calming breaths to stop the giggles before hugging her back and answering.

“I dunno love, think a few things have changed since you’ve been away.”


	25. Homecoming

Stu waited outside the door with bated breath. The drummer was a little more calm, playing around on his phone as he waited. 2D had his hands up in front of his face, wiggling his fingers anxiously. He’d told the bassist so many times that Noodle wouldn’t be mad but he was still nervous. What if he’d been wrong, what if Murdoc couldn’t handle seeing her what if--

His spiral of over-thinking was cut off by the muffled sound of laughter coming from inside the room. Russel looked up and smiled a little as the singer’s head whipped towards the door. 

“Sounds like it’s goin’ well then,” Russel commented, going back to his phone. 2D’s anxious wiggling turned into happy wiggling. He really, really wanted to run into the room and see what was going on. He went to open the door, but the drummer stopped him with a hand on the shoulder, a gentle reminder to let Murdoc handle this. 

“But Russ I wanna go in!” he whined, giving the other man puppy dog eyes. Russel was unmoved, very used to 2D’s antics. 

“Wait a bit D, give them some time.” 2D huffed but stood aside, tapping his foot. Russel shook his head at him; Stu knew he was acting like a child, but he just couldn’t wait! He’d spent weeks coaching Murdoc through his feelings about the accident and holding the bassist when the anxiety became too much. Murdoc had done the same for him every time the singer came home from a visit and was worn out. He felt like he couldn't wait another second. 

It wasn’t long before the door opened and a smiling Murdoc emerged. He didn’t say anything but ushered them inside with a wave before popping back inside. Stu was through the door and walking up to Noodle’s bed before Russ had had a chance to put his phone away. 

“Hello Noodle!” he cried, giving her a big hug. She looked so much better, even from the last time he’d seen her a few days ago. Murdoc was sitting in a chair on her other side, one of his gnarled hands grasped in hers and the biggest smile Stu had ever seen on his face. 

“Hello 2D,” she greeted as they separated. “And hello Russel!”

“Hey baby-girl, how’re you feeling?”

Noodle shrugged and sighed. “I feel fine, but the doctors still won’t let me go outside.” she was pouting a lot like the singer had been outside the door. 

“D’you want us to sneak you out?” Murdoc offered, gesturing to the wheelchair in the far corner. “I'm sure we could manage it with not too much disaster.” 2D noticed he was slurring his words a little. Maybe he shouldn’t have given him all those pills...

“I’m putting an end to this now,” Russel said before Noodle could respond. “You, Noodle, need to rest. And you, Muds, need to be a better role model.”

Murdoc rolled his eyes but made no move to get the wheelchair. “Fine fine, looks like our great escape is delayed until kill-joy over here isn’t around.” He was still smiling, and it made 2D want to smile too. Stu felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders as he watched the other’s chat, occasionally chiming in himself with a little tidbit here and there. Noodle was busy updating them on all the juicy hospital gossip--it’s so boring in here, she had to do  _ something _ \--when she interrupted herself.

“Actually, I meant to ask,” she said, her smile morphing into a knowing smirk. “How long have you two been an item?”

Immediately, both Murdoc and 2D froze. “Uh, what’d you mean love? 2D asked.

Noodle rolled her eyes again. “Oh come on, you don’t think Russel didn’t tell me everything?”

“Oh did he now?” Murdoc glared hazily at the drummer, who threw up his hands.

“I didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret. Not like you two have been quiet about it anyway.” 2D was beet red from his neck to his hairline. Murdoc wasn’t fairing much better, having let go of Noodle’s hand to cover his face. 

Noodle was laughing again. “Don’t get mad at Russel. If he hadn’t told me, I would have known just by looking at you two!”

“Is it that obvious?” 2D whined. He and Murdoc hadn’t discussed going public, or even coming out to Noodle officially. The singer hoped Murdoc wouldn’t be too mad that she knew. 

“You two look at each other like the other hung the moon,” she said, shrugging. “I am happy for you both.”

Murdoc still hadn't said anything and Stu was getting antsy. “Heh, yeah. Thanks, Noods.”

Everyone in the room looked to Murdoc, trying to gauge his reaction. The old Murdoc would have blown up and caused a scene. Now though, 2D watched with pride as the bassist took a breath and smiled instead, getting up to stand beside the singer. 

“Whatever, Faceache, you couldn’t resist me,” he teased. Stu blushed and stuttered a little while Russel and Noodle laughed. He felt Murdoc’s hand on his lower back, pulling him in a little closer. He looked around at his family, together once again, feeling joy build up in his chest.

“Sod off, you old goth,” he replied, leaning into Murdoc’s embrace. Murdoc stumbled a little at the extra weight. Noodle and Russel were still chuckling and rolling their eyes at the two of them. It was nice, being almost normal again.

“So,” Russel started as their laughter died down, “have the doctors said anythin’ about when you’ll be discharged?”

Stu’s head snapped up to look at the drummer with surprise. He hadn’t thought about Noodle getting home soon, he’d mostly been focusing on one day at a time. Looking over at Noodle he saw her looking thoughtful.

“They told me that if I can walk on the crutches again today, then I can go home by the end of the week,” she said, pointing to the pair sitting by the wheelchair. 

“That’s great Noodle!” 2D cheered, forgetting where he was. Russel shushed him as Murdoc jostled him lightly. 

“Don’t go gettin’ us kicked out, D” Murdoc murmured. 2D nodded sheepishly, embarrassed at casing such a ruckus. Russel wandered over to the set of crutches, inspecting them before turning back to Noodle. 

“Are you allowed to walk around? I’m sure we could help you.”

Noodle shrugged. “I don’t know, but it can’t hurt too much.” She sat up further and began moving her things to the side. Murdoc quickly--and unsteadily--rushed to her side, helping her swing both legs over the side of the bed. He was swaying a little as he tried to steady her, an annoyed look on his face.

“Uh, maybe someone else should do this…” he said. Stu came over to take his place as Murdoc sat down in one of the chairs beside the bed. The bassist looked a little greener than usual. 

Stu gave him an apologetic look. “I’ve got it, you jus’ rest Muds.” The bassist looked relieved, if not a little frustrated. “Sorry I gave you too many.”

“S’fine, not your fault really.” Russel brought over the crutches and took Noodle’s other side, helping her to shift off the bed and balance on her not-injured foot before handing her the crutches. 

Stu hovered beside her, ready to catch her if she fell. It kind of reminded him of when he’d take her to the park as a kid and watch her do the monkey bars. She’d always been so fearless that he felt he had to be scared for her. 

As usual, Noodle didn’t flinch away from a challenge.2D watched her limp over to the door with a determined look in her eyes, then back to the bed. She was breathing heavily and looked a little pale, but she did it. As she reached them, she smiled just like she used to when she was a kid.

* * *

 

It took a week and a half for the hospital to release Noodle. A few times Stu had to stop Murdoc from calling the doctor and telling her off. The bassist knew the doctors were just being careful but Satan, he wanted his little girl home and safe. He’d been visiting her as much as he could, with 2D and Russel, but it wasn’t the same as having her at home. 

They’d talked a lot, about things he’d done in the past, the accident, things he was doing now. Noodle, being made of harder stuff than Stuart, didn’t forgive him unconditionally, and they had quite a few long talks about his behaviours. But he knew that she knew he was trying, really trying this time, and because of that she was going to give him another chance. 

By the time the day she was scheduled to come home came up, he’d been a wreck. So much so that Russel wouldn’t let him come with to pick her up, telling him and 2D to stay home and “get things ready”. What did that even mean?

“Get things ready, oh I’ll get them bloody ready alrigh’,” Murdoc grumbled at the dishes he was washing. He’d already done the laundry  _ and _ vacuumed. 2D was supposed to be taking care of the dusting and general tidying. Everything had to be perfect for Noodle’s homecoming.

“You’re gettin’ worked up, Murdoc,” he said in his best impression of their drummer.  “Yah Muds, why don’t you go sit down!” He was better at imitating their singer, having done so many times for less than great reasons. But he needed to entertain himself somehow through all these chores. He’d been at this for hours now, since well before Russel left but after the drummer said he couldn’t come. How long does it take to pick up one person from the hospital?

“Dustin’s done, and it’s about as tidy as it’s ever been out there,” the singer announced as he walked into the kitchen. Murdoc glanced over his shoulder but kept washing. 

“It needs to be perfect D,” he answered, picking at a spot of dried food with his fingernail. “She’s gonna be hobblin’ around on crutches for a few weeks still. She could trip, or fall, or--”

Behind him, 2D rested his head on Murdoc’s shoulder, his arms resting around his waist. “Murdoc, you’re freakin out.”

“I am not!” he scoffed indignantly, voice cracking. He grabbed one of the plates he’d already washed and dunked it back in the water. “Jus’ because you’re a lazy sod doesn’t mean we should put her in more danger.”

Stu swayed them back and forth gently, not enough to interrupt Murdoc’s washing but enough that he could feel the relaxing rhythm begin to calm him. It was both irritating and mystifying how the singer always knew exactly how to navigate Murdoc’s moods. 

“Muds, Noodle’s tough, the house is clean. You’ve scrubbed that plate so hard the patterns nearly comin’ off. Sit down with me awhile?”

2D’s chest against his back, the swaying, those things combined were enough for him to take a step back and assess himself. Just like his therapist had taught him he relaxed his joints and unclenched his teeth. He acknowledged the aching in his gut and the buzzing in his veins that he’d been trying to ignore all morning. The singer tightened his hold a little as Murdoc sagged, letting the dish slip from his hands and into the soapy water. 

“Everythin’s gonna be OK, promise,” 2D whispered softly, pulling Murdoc back and towards the living room. The bassist let himself be led to the sofa, and he let himself be coaxed into sitting beside Stu, leaning in slightly. “There, isn’t that better?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. His shoulders were aching from how tense he’d been all morning, and he rolled them to relive some of the burn. “What time is it?”

“Four-thirty,” 2D answered, checking his phone. “Russel texted me that they were headin’ home and should be here in about forty-five minutes.”

Murdoc stiffened again, but Stu was ready. “Don’t freak out again!” he said, tightening his hold. “Russel said she has a walkin’ cast or somethin’ and she doesn’t even need the crutches!”

But Murdoc was already up and pacing. “And you didn’t bloody tell me sooner?!” Satan, he wasn’t ready for this, he’d told himself he was and he  _ wasn’t. _

“She’s gonna come in here an-and fuckin’ t-trip over--” Again, 2D cut him off, standing up to block the bassist's path.

“She c-could d-drop a plate an’ c-cut herself.” The singer was drawing him in, big hands pressing firmly over his back.

“What if--what if s-she--What if Noodle g-gets sick again, D? Murdoc whispered into the other man’s chest, resting his head on Stu’s collarbone. “What i-if I do somethin’ w-wrong an’ she gets h-hurt. Or you. Or Russ?”

2D hummed to himself, picking up his gentle rocking motion from in the kitchen. Murdoc felt pathetic, crying in the middle of the living room. He couldn’t believe he was doing this  _ again _ . Before he could fall any deeper into his own pit of self-loathing, Stu piped up. 

“You know none of that’s gonna happen, we’ve talked about this,” The singer said quietly. Murdoc looked down at their feet and thought of high schoolers dancing at prom. “You’ve talked to Noodle, and you were there when we talked to the doctors. It’s gonna be fine.”

But something in his head wouldn’t let him believe it. Wouldn’t let him believe that they had somehow cheated death  _ again _ , that Noodle had escaped Hell again. How was he supposed to relax, given everything they’d gone through? The slow rocking continued. 

“Talk to me?” Stu asked, altering their course to avoid the coffee table. Murdoc sniffled and wiped his face, drawing back enough to look up at the singer.

“I can’t stop thinkin’ a-about what might happen. I-it’s like my brain won’t turn off…” He shook his head sadly, stopping their rocking. “Satan, I want a drink.”

“Have you had any today?” 2D looked thoughtful.

"No."

“That’s real responsible of you, Muds. I’m proud of you.”

Murdoc made a depreciating noise. “Sober for one morning, ring the parade.”

The singer sighed, taking the Satanist’s face in his hands. “S’more than I’ve managed. Little steps, yeah?”

He didn’t want to believe it. Something inside insisted that he had to be perfect, that he had to get everything right. It was the only way Murdoc could even begin to make up for everything he’d done. He didn’t have the freedom to make more mistakes. But 2D was looking at him with that  _ look _ , the one that said “ I know that you’re trying to punish yourself and I won’t let you”. He took a deep breath.

“Baby steps, yeah. OK. You’re right.” It was a sign of progress that he’d even admit that to the singer.  2D smiled in response, leaning down to connect their lips. Murdoc bowed into the kiss. When he tried to deepen in, 2D pulled back with a playful grin. 

“None of that now, they’ll be here any minute. Save it for later,” he said winking. Murdoc backed off, but not before reaching down to grab a good handful of his arse. “Hey!”

“Gotta get my fill before fat-arse and the sprog show up, don’t I?” Murdoc said innocently, thought the effect was ruined by his gravelly, wet laugh. 2D rolled his eyes in response, hugging him closer. 

“You’re impossible.”

Murdoc was saved the hassle of responding by the sound of the front door swinging open. His stomach dropped out from underneath him immediately. 

“I’m not ready for this.”

Stu gave him one last quick squeeze before letting go. Murdoc hated the lonely feeling that rushed in to take their place. “I don’t think you have a choice this time, sorry.”

“Where is everyone?” Russel called from the front room. “2D! Murdoc! Get your lazy asses over here and help me with these bags!”

2D shot him a funny look then walked towards the other two, leaving Murdoc alone in the living room. He stood there a moment to steel himself before following. He was greeted by a haggard looking Russel and a smiling Noodle in the middle of hugging 2D. 

“Hello, little luv,” 2D greeted, hunching down to wrap his arms around her. She giggled in response and Murdoc was reminded of that night weeks ago when he couldn’t get the sound of her laugh out of his head so he’d gone up on the roof. But it was real this time, she was really, finally home. 

“2D! It’s good to be home.” She sounded so happy, so normal. Murdoc idled near the doorway, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Russel saw him and shook his head. 

“Murdoc, can you take these bags upstairs?” he asked. Murdoc jumped at being directly addressed. But taking the bags gave him something to do, which gave him something to focus on, and that was better than standings around waiting for the anxiety to take over. Russel looked surprised, but understanding as the bassist hurried to grab a few of the bags and haul them upstairs. 

He could hear them talking as he ascended the stairs, all three of them together. It sounded like they were helping her into the living room, and that Noodle was tired of being helped. Murdoc felt a smile tug at his lips; she was a lot like him, in some ways. 

The bags he’d grabbed were all Noodle’s, her clothes, the gifts she’d been sent while in the hospital. He set them down in her room, beside the freshly-made bed with freshly-washed sheets. On the walk back down the stairs he thought he heard his name from the living room, so he waited just outside the doorway, hoping to catch what they were saying about him. 

“--urdoc?” That was 2D. They were definitely talking about him. His anxiety was spiking again, and he was about to turn around and go to his room--not to hide, Murdoc Niccals didn’t  _ hide _ \--when he heard Noodle speak. 

“He is looking well, and so are you, D.”

“Thanks Noodle, we’re doin’ alrigh’. A lot better than before, anyway.”

“I am glad for the both of you. You are my family, and I am glad you're finally happy.” Murdoc felt himself tearing up again and rapidly rubbed at his eyes. Satan, when had he become so soft?

He heard shuffling, like someone shifting on the sofa. “She’s right, D. I think it’s finally time we all got a break.”

They switched topics then, talking about what the guitarist wanted for her homecoming dinner. Murdoc waited outside the door long enough to collect himself, then walked inside in what he hoped was a confident manner. All eyes turned to him as he walked casually up to the sofa.

“It’s great to see you Noodle,” he said, feeling just a little bit under pressure at their gazes. Luckily she smiled easily and opened her arms for a hug. That he could do. When she let go he took a seat beside 2D on the sofa. The singer leaned into him as he did, providing a kind of silent support. Noodle noticed and her smile widened. 

“I’m happy to see you too Murdoc. We were just discussing what we’re going to have for dinner.”

It all felt so normal, watching Noodle and 2D argue over pizza toppings--she was going to win, but only because it was her homecoming--while Russel played moderator. Murdoc leaned back, occasionally adding in his two cents but mostly just looking on, enjoying the familiarity. Occasionally he’d stick in a word or two before being shot down. KIds these days had no taste in pizza toppings. 

That was how most of the night went. They ended up ordering Thai food in the end, and 2D somehow ended up with pad thai in his hair before they turned in. Noodle had insisted she could get up the stairs on her own. She did for the most part, with a little help from Russel at the halfway point. They all said good night on the second-floor landing despite it still being pretty early. Russel insisted that Noodle needed rest and that the house had to be quiet for her to do so. So t he drummer went to his own room, claiming that the hospital had worn him out while Stu and Murdoc decided to to go to the singer’s room and watch a couple of movies on his crappy TV. Murdoc let Stu pick the film, instead choosing to settle into the comfiest spot on the other man’s mattress after stripping down to his briefs. 

“This one’s a classic, Muds. It’s got great effects.” 2D babbled, getting into bed in front of Murdoc and pressing his back against the bassist’s chest. Murdoc cradled the other smaller body in his arms, getting a whiff of shampoo and weed. Murdoc had thought that Stu's "smoke break" took a little loner than normal. 

“You didn’t think to share?” he asked lowly, playing with the singer’s fingers. 2D barely took his eyes off the screen as he reached into his trousers and pulled out a half-smoked joint and lighter.

“Didn’t want to be a bad influence, we’re supposed to be avoidin’ this stuff,” he answered with a shrug. Murdoc lit the joint and inhaled, finishing it rather quickly. 

“There’s no hard in a little herbal remedy, Stu,” he said, settling back into the bed and into the comfortable warmth of another person. “Besides, I think we’ve earned it.”

Murdoc spent most of the movie nestled up between 2D’s back and the wall. Eyes closed as he listened to the sound of zombies being slain and the singer’s breathing until the credits rolled and 2D decided to stretch out. 

“S’a good movie, isn’t it?” he asked, apparently oblivious to how little Murdoc paid attention. The bassist hummed in response, curling closer into his partner’s (boyfriend’s?) warmth. They really hadn’t talked much about what they were, but he was pretty sure they were something. The idea made him almost giddy, well either that or the pot. “Murdoc?”

“Yeah?” he was starting to drift off. He felt warm and relaxed and like for once, everything was going to be OK. 

“I love you, and I’m glad you’re here with me.” That woke him up a bit. He looked up at the singer, heart pounding, but in a good way. Time slowed down, things narrowed into just the two of them in the entire world.

Well, if there was ever a time to take a leap of faith… “I l-love you too, Stu-Pot. I really,  _ really  _ do.”

2D’s face was practically glowing with the smile that brought on. Murdoc could feel his face burning, could feel the urge to look away and rebuild his walls. But 2D was so warm, and he felt so damn good. Maybe it was time to give himself, and everyone around him, a break from all the self-hatred. 

“Mmm, good.” the singer answered, wiggling around until he was comfortable and closing his eyes. “Tell me again in the morning OK?”

Murdoc looked at him, saw the tiny wrinkles along his eyes and the roughness of stubble on his chin. He thought about all the years they’d spent together, and all the ways he’d made that time miserable. Raising a hand he let his fingers trail lightly along the singer's jaw.

He thought about hooking up and eating at diners. He remembered rough kisses then softer ones and so many emotions that he couldn’t hope to name them all. A lot things had happened in the last few weeks that had changed his entire world. He thought that maybe he should stop thinking about that if he wanted to get any sleep that night. 

“I will. G’night, Stu.” There was time to think tomorrow. Right now he just wanted to enjoy the few minutes he had left before falling asleep in the arms of the man he loved. Safe, protected, hopeful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. There will be a one-shot coming in a few months dealing with Plastic Beach, so don't worry. Also, if you like my work follow me on Tumblr at our-smooty.


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